#reposts are appreciated

[answer2jeff]

narrow thoughts // carmen berzatto

part one: sprite

finally done with part 1! somewhat happy ending in part 2 btw, since i don't totally hate you guys or want you to suffer for once

synopsis: you and carmen were good friends turned strangers — the trauma bond from Noma still keeping you closer. you've noticed Carmen's hard work, and you worry terribly for him and his wellbeing. keeping quiet has never been so hard; being "friends" has never been so hard.

pairings: platonic!richie x reader – romantic!carmy x reader

english isn't my first language — expect some mistakes. feedback is always appreciated.

WARNINGS: friends - strangers - lovers, angst, fluff, NOT an established relationship, pre-existing history, ZERO use of y/n, reader is implied female, mention of the nickname "Pico," short for "Piccola" ; small (young), or even baby, in italian.

wc: 2.1k

You twisted the silver key at an angle, locking the glass door shut — the 'CLOSED' sign taunting you. You and your pre-existing staff expected to open in just 6 weeks, and you still felt like so much time lingered. The emptiness of the sidewalk made your stomach drop to your feet, the same way it did every night. You waited so impatiently for the opening day of your coffee shop to inch closer and closer; but you were uncertain, unsettled, and lacking confidence in your craft. Was simplicity really the answer? Should you have just stayed in New York? Were you just another, "Eleven Madison Park Dickhead?" Did you even want answers to these looming questions? No. No you didn't — not yet. All you wanted that night was a glass of homemade sprite, and maybe a real conversation with an old friend.

Maybe he'd know what to say, if anything at all.

So, you walked. And you walked, and you walked, and you kept walking — your dark blue crewneck sweater that went just past the belt line of your baggy jeans, a pair of pantyhose, white socks, and Doc Martens keeping you clothed in the Chicago cold. Your bracelets clanged against each other, harmonizing with the sound of the keychains jingling against your purse, clutched close to your sides. You finally reached the The Beef, the florescent glow casting a blueish green shine against your face. Another 'CLOSED' sign pointed a childish finger at you.

"Richieeee!" You wined, gently knocking on the glass window to grasp his attention — his back turned to you as he was telling Tina and Marcus yet another story about Carmen's childhood. You almost regretted being nice to him, but it gave you leeway; visiting after hours, special treatment, and even the nickname 'Pico' was coined after you.

"Richie, I know you can hear me!"

"Yeah, and he goes—" Richie reluctantly paused, hearing a familiar voice from behind the glass. His hands, frozen in the air, fell to his sides as he dramatically walked over to the door. "Shit, hold on. Pico's here." He groaned, slowly unlocking and cracking the door open, moving out of your way to let you in.

"Thanks." You breathed, crossing your arms as you took a step into the restaurant — immediately met with smiles and good night's from Marcus and Tina. Your eyes darted around the cramped space of the counter, not quite being able to see into the kitchen as you stepped closer to take a seat in a red barstool.

"What're you doin' here? You alright, sweetheart?" Richie asked, his tone only slightly annoyed from the interruption of his attempt to humiliate Carmen. He waltzed behind the counter, supporting his weight by pressing his palms against the metal as he stood across from you. He furrowed his eyebrows, wondering — completely disregarding Tina and Marcus clocking out and leaving for the night.

"Yeah, just uh — my stomach hurts. Like, bad." You sighed, sticking your elbows up onto the counter and resting your face in your hands, the stool next to you occupied by your purse. Richie only nodded his head, noticing your mouth slightly gaped open like you had more to say. Even if he was a childish asshole, he wasn't evil. He'd never interrupt someone who was clearly in need.

"And–and i'm just... payin' a visit, I guess." You tried justifying your reasoning for coming all this way. It was 9:47, and you hardly ever came around this late. Typically, you'd lock up by 9:15, come over and stick around till 9:30, and be home by 10:45. You must've needed something, he thought, but he chose not to pester you tonight.

Please don't ask.

"Alright.. Yeah, 'ya look a little green. You wanna sprite?" Richie gently placed the back of his hand against your forehead, just reassuring you didn't have a fever. You nodded your head in approval. He walked into the kitchen, shouting "COUSIN! Pico wants a sprite! Make it for 'er, will 'ya?"

Carmen shut his locker as he nodded his head to Richie, mumbling, "be right there." He bit the inside of his cheek, his lips curling into a smile when he saw you through the tiny peak between the counter and the kitchen that you were too far from to experience. Admittedly, Carmen liked seeing you come in — bringing coffee for everyone in the mornings, and wishing everyone goodnight in the evenings. It gave him something to look foreword to. He liked the consistency; and hell, he fucking loved the blonde espresso macchiato you conjured up for him, the foam just a tad bit flat from having to travel on foot from the cafe to the restaurant with it.

You scrolled on your Instagram timeline as you heard Carmen mumbling to himself as he made your sprite, noting the clinking of ice against a glass cup and the crisp sound of the homemade soda pouring in. You gave Richie an air-kiss on the cheek goodbye as he walked out of The Beef, his lanky frame covered by his leather jacket. You smiled again at the sight of Carmen politely delivering your drink, putting your phone away in the pocket of your jeans.

"Why thank you!" You cooed, looking into his big, blue eyes that didn't really know what to focus on. You took in every feature: his curly dirty-blonde locks in need of trimming, his big and arched nose, the round shape of his chin. You were staring, your stare never leaving his figure as he set the glass down on the counter, and he couldn't help but smile back.

He was perfect — it was almost scary.

"Pleasure." Carmen chuckled, placing a warm hand on the back of his neck as he thought of what else to say. He couldn't remember the last time you two were alone. The closest thing was him coming over to your apartment in broad daylight to help you get rid of the green, god awful futon in your living room that was covered in weird stains.

"You've got a weird definition of pleasure." You sighed, raising your glass to your lips and feeling the sprite ease your stomach. Your eyes rolled when you heard his obnoxiously attractive laugh; breathy and nervous.

"Yeah, yeah. I know." Carmen nodded his head, essentially saying "you're right, but respectfully — fuck off" without actually saying it. He picked his head up, watching your throat contract with each sip — the neon lights all around the restaurant displaying a purple glow against your skin. It was childish, but knowing he could make your night just a little bit better with a glass of sprite made him proud of himself.

"You feelin' alright? As best as you can, I mean." You set your glass down, resting your face in your palms as you blinked at Carmen, your eyebrows knitted in concern. You worried for him, no matter how much your brain reassured you that they grey crescents under his eyes were none of your concern. It was normal to never get more than 5 or 6 hours of sleep every night as an overworked 34 year old, right? It's a Carmy problem, right?

No. Fuck no.

"Uh... yeah, I—" Carmen's hands gripped tightly against the cold, metal counter, his foot tapping against the tile floor. He bit the inside of his cheek, diverting his gaze away from you and back towards the walkway into the kitchen. He was lying, and you knew it. He felt his chest heave at the question as he forced himself to look at you again; your face still expressing a sense of panic for him.

"You..?" You finished his empty sentence for him, getting a little impatient. Your manicured nails clicked against the counter, waiting for him to tell at least some fragments of the truth.

"No, not alright. Not really. I, um—" He paused again, his eyes finally locking with yours, completely unable to pull away now. You looked beautiful to him — elegant, even. With your hair messier than the way you styled it this morning, with your chipped and grown out manicure, and especially with your lack of knowledge that Carmen was analyzing every inch of you. He felt guilty for looking - more than he usually did.

"I've been having those weird fuckin' dreams again. A-and these panic attacks, I think?" Carmens voice went softer, a whine of fear in his speech; he finally let his guard down just a bit. It was like just looking at you calmed him down enough so he could choke out another sentence.

"Shit. Still?" You asked, your nails pausing their annoying clack and tap so you could focus all of your attention onto Carmen. You remembered Natalie mentioning Carmen's recent manifestations of his stress, often asking if you'd just check up on him every once in a while, just in case she couldn't reach him.

"Yeah." Carmen replied, his voice airy and unsupported. His eyes were blue and desperate, and fixated on every part of your face. It made his thoughts narrow down to you; your weird sense of humor, your artful hands that illustrated your frustration when you complained about your day, even the perfume you wore every day that lingered around the jacket you left at his apartment (which he still hasn't given back to you.) Why would he? How could Carmen not keep a piece of you in his home?

You finally caught Carmen's gaze as you grazed the condensation on your glass of sprite — and you could see it in his face; the exhaustion, the anxiety, the need for stability in his eyes. You saw what this place did to him; what fixing this hellhole turned him into for a second time. It felt silly, controlling, nagging even, for you to assume that Carmen couldn't handle himself. But maybe that wasn't too unfair of an assumption; even if Sydney tried to condition you to believe that not every Carmy problem had to be a you problem.

"Jesus. I'm sorry." You clenched your teeth as you thought about his nausea spells he'd get every morning, remembering the dozens of empty bottles of pepto bismol littered around the kitchen counter of his apartment in New York. It was like you could still feel the sting of stomach acid your throat when you ended up puking every night after dinner rush; your digestive system completely empty from the lack of time you even had to keep your body intact. And yet, it was fucking everything. Your calloused fingers from the knives and the rasp in your throat from crying felt like a trophy; a mark on your person that forever reminded you of how great you once were.

What were you even doing here? Opening another thrift shop? But this time, it had a built in cafe; a cafe you dreamed of serving the best coffee in Chicago? Wow! What an original, realistic and inspiring concept. Like Richie warned the two of you: neither of you had any idea what you were doing back in Chicago.

Is it too late for me to understand you?

"Is this even.. I don't know — fun, for you anymore? Was it ever?" You croaked, tracing the tip of your middle finger along the rim of the glass — watching the little bubbles in the drink rise and pop. The question almost struck a nerve in Carmen, it forced him to think; really think.

"I mean... 'fun' isn't the word I'd use." He shrugged his shoulders, his face contorting into that typical confused look he always gave you. It made your heart ache.

"I don't like what it does to you."

"I'm– I'm trying to... to do somethin' here, Pico." His eyebrows knitted as his hands gripped just a little tighter against the counter.

"I know, Carmy. A-and you're doing great I just– I miss you." You barely whispered, crossing your arms almost trying to defend yourself as Carmen's face softened. His stomach dropped to his feet, his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

You two hadn't had a real conversation since the night you decided to quit, leaving Carmen to chase his success and even become Food & Wine's best chef without you. You hadn't cried in front of him since the day after Mikey's funeral: which neither of you could bring yourself to attend to. You'd been back home much longer than Carmen had; him coming home was so bittersweet. You needed him here. You needed him in the warm glow of your apartment, on your vintage couch as you shared the leftover pasta carbonara you made the night before. You forgot what his arms felt like around you, trying so hard to remember as you glanced at his tattoos.

"I miss you too."

TO BE CONTINUED BITCHESSSSSS!!!!!!

[orukkart]

get into the chrismas spirit with jjk boys!

[killouzz]

☆My Original AU called TimeFlower Verse. This sans is called Unikko, he’s actually an AU of Dust Sans but due to certain events that happened in the multiverse, he ended up becoming Unikko. The whole thing includes poppies and a lot of death. Me and my other friend thought of it, it’s sort of inspired by FlowerFell in some ways but it’s different in the rest. I haven’t fully explored the lore of what happens but I atleast have a basic idea of the events that would take place. I’m sure I’ll eventually get to finishing the lore and will end up explaining it more on here and possibly even writing its story in full. I also need to design another character that will be important aswell to the lore!☆

Unikko Sans belongs to Me/Killouz

[sad-ironstrange-shipper]

Star Crossed Lovers

Pairing: Tony/Stephen

Sonnet: Romeo and Juliet act 1 scene one

Genre: Angst

Two households, both alike in dignity,

14,000,605 possible outcomes. 14. Million. Why couldn’t he find one where Tony and him had a happy ending? There must be one out there? He just had to keep looking.

In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

There had to be a future, there had to. One where Thanos had been defeated, one where everyone lived. One where fate could never catch up to Tony and him. A life in which they could live.

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Just keep looking, Stephen. Goddamn it! It was death after death, separation after separation. What made the universe tear them apart. What spell, what story set in stone made the world keep turning to separate them, as if he was being thrown in the opposite direction of Tony, no way to catch up to him or break free from the chains of fate.

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean,

There was only one. He valued Tony’s happiness. He valued his life. He valued Tony. But did Stephen value himself? Did this cruel shift of the cosmos mean for Stephen to forever just be out of reach of something he’d been longing for?

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes

Would Stephen sacrifice his heart to ensure the love of another? Would he cut the invisible string that brought him and Tony together so Tony had that chance to live? Would he risk this fate, for the chance to change another?

A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life,

Stephen may of not been the one who died in the defeat of Thanos those oh so many years later. But his heart had stopped beating. He had given his chance at love, at life. The kiss of fate locked Stephen in her chains and watched him suffer.

Whose misadventured piteous overthrows

Stephen could have changed this. Tony could have been here, but would Tony have been happy? Would Tony have felt the warm embrace of love if he was still here? Did he feel it before he died? If Stephen had the chance to go back, would he have changed anything?

Doth, with their death, bury their parents' strife.

The curse of star-crossed lovers. He had read. A silent killer and proof that love is the most painful emotion of them all.

[dontthreatanmewithagoosetime]

[faunandfloraas]

Honestly I think a lot of people who have never made a gif for tumblr don't get that it does actually take time and effort, its not just rip it from a video and post it- you have to download the video, in my case I have a video player installed that grabs continuous caps, figure out what parts you need, you have to open those in photoshop or gimp, depending on where you got photoshop you might be paying for it every month and then on top of that is actually sizing, cropping, colouring, sharpening, adding text, etc. etc. like it is something that takes time and effort for which the only real reward is creating something that makes you happy and hopefully people reblog it with a nice or funny tag, so maybe keep that in mind the next time you think gif makers are being mean or unfair for being upset about reposts. It is its own little artform that is fairly unique to this website, and that's a big aspect of why I have always loved tumblr, if all the gifmakers stopped posting things would be a lot more boring around here.

[m0cktails]

[noirandchocolate]

RICE Alzheimer's Research Institute

Terry died on 12 March 2015, having given his PCA a run for its money.  Open about his diagnosis, he has helped to unlock the secrecy and stigma that often surrounds dementia.  His legion of fans is undoubtedly grateful that despite the inevitable progression of the PCA he was able to fight his ‘embuggerance’ and continue to produce a number of both well-received and well-reviewed books.  Terry was also a great example to me in emphasizing how important it is that, in caring for people with any type of dementia, we always look for what people with a condition like PCA can still do, rather than what they can’t: by maximizing what is possible, a person can still live well with dementia for a significant time.

–Professor Roy Jones, Director of RICE (taken from “Terry Pratchett: His World”)

I wanted to post something for the Glorious 25th about the Research Institute for the Care of Older People (RICE) in Bath, where Sir Terry Pratchett received treatment for Post-Cortical Atrophy, the type of Alzheimer’s disease that eventually took his life. From the organization’s website:

RICE established one of the first memory clinic services in the UK in 1987 – a service which has since been widely replicated and is now considered standard and best practice by the NHS. In fact, RICE now runs the NHS Memory Clinic in Bath and North East Somerset on behalf of the local clinical commissioning group and local authority through a sub-contract with HCRG Care Group. To date, we’ve assessed, diagnosed, treated and advised 12,000 people with memory problems and their families in our memory clinic. 

Most of RICE’s clinical services and research activities take place in our own purpose built, specialist centre located on the Royal United Hospital site. The building of the RICE Centre was possible as a result of generous donations from major donors, trusts and foundations, and members of the public. RICE moved into the ground and first floor of the centre in 2008. Following the success of the DementiaPlus Appeal and further generous donations from major donors, trusts and foundations and members of the public, RICE converted the attic floor in 2019 to create more office space. This has given us access to much needed additional rooms and offices which will enable us to grow and run more services and activities. We’ve worked hard to ensure that the areas of the centre visited by our patients meets their needs and we regularly receive feedback on how much our patients enjoy their visit to our centre.

RICE not only provides clinical services to patients, but also conducts research into aging and dementia, including performing clinical trials for new drug treatments for memory-related diseases and developing other “techniques for diagnosing, managing, treating and understanding dementia and memory changes in older adults.”

Lady Lyn Pratchett is the patron of the organization, and the website includes a page about how people can donate funds or volunteer at the clinic and participate in fundraising events.

SO, if you’d like to help fund Alzheimer’s research on this Glorious 25th of May–or at any time–in honor of the Man in the Hat, take a look!

[themaymoth]

the crown prince and the hero are going on a date✨

he zoned out 10 minutes ago...

[spr1mkle]

twitter got a kick out of this one

[answer2jeff]

SICK DAY // CARMEN BERZATTO BLURB

i wrote another blurb to make up for not finishing the smut. please don't murder me >:(

song: forwards beckon rebound.

warnings: lots of detail, kind of a sad blurb :(, fem!reader, established relationship, fluff but like sad, making out, Carmen being protective and clingy and worried, living with Carmen, just very touchy feely, sorta angst.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEEEEEP!

"Ugh..." You groaned, your 6:35am alarm disturbing your sleep after your 6:15 and 6:25 already failed to wake you up. Carmen, while half asleep, tossed and turned beside you. His arms finally found their way wrapped around your waist and pulled your back close to his chest. You took a deep breath, sighing and muttering incoherent complaints.

"You gotta get up, baby." Carmen mumbled, his cheek smushed against your shoulder before he planted a kiss on the nape of your neck. His hands caressed the shape of your torso as your stomach fluttered to his touch. Even after months of living together, months of calling this bed "ours," months of you telling everyone you knew that he was yours.

"I don't wanna." You pouted, pulling the covers back over the two of you. Carmen quickly yanked them back, his other hand still occupied by your waist.

You'd been called into work outside of your business hours 4 different times that week, and your team still hasn't considered having a conference to address your coworkers blatantly not showing up. You were losing sleep, and you waited until the last minute to change out of your work clothes and get ready for bed. Sometimes you even waited until Carmen got home, which could take hours.

"Baby, you've gotta go. What's the matter?" Carmen cooed, picking his head up and trying to look over at you. The sunrise beamed on your face perfectly highlighting your pretty face: the face he was so proud of kissing and cradling like it would break if he ever let go.

You rolled over to face him, and his hands remained on your waist. His fingers moved up and down your hips, rubbing little circles with his calloused thumbs against the small bit of skin that peaked between your shorts and your t-shirt. Your hands cupped his tired face, your eyes gazing back into his.

"I feel like shit, Carmy." You whined, your expression resembling something of a wounded puppy. Carmen only nodded his head as he brought a hand up to soothe your shoulder.

"I'm sorry." Carmen mumbled back to you. He knew that you weren't getting enough sleep, that you weren't drinking enough water, that you weren't finishing your plate when he'd take an extra 20 minutes to make sure you'd have real food after work. It didn't matter how many times you told him you were just having "one bad day," he knew this wasn't normal for you.

"I'm just gonna call in sick." You whispered, your eyes shutting again as your head sunk back into your pillows, which smelled like Carmen's cologne. If everyone else thinks it's my job to cover for them, then I deserve a day off, you thought.

"But I'm not gonna be home." Carmen lightly shook your shoulder to get your attention again, his worried eyes focused on you.

"I know. You've got that thing with Syd." You replied, trying to keep your tone calm even if you were slightly annoyed with Carmen's persistence.

"Uh-huh, and then I'm gonna head back to the restaurant 'cause—"

"'Cause Richie's gotta pick up Eva. Yeah, I know. Why exactly is this a problem?" Your eyes shot open, glaring at Carmen. He almost revolted back at your annoyance, his eyebrows furrowing. Carmen shrugged his shoulders, his hand moving down and grazing along your plush thighs. His mouth gaped open, his breath caught in his throat as he tried so say something.

"I don't know. I just—I don't wanna leave you here." Carmen glanced at your lips, his rough hand caressing your arm while the other reached to cup your jaw. He knew you hated being away from him for too long before you moved in together, but it hadn't become an issue for him until fairly recently.

Carmen was used to not seeing you as much as he'd originally hope, but it was like he couldn't go a day without thinking about you these past 3 weeks. He started texting you throughout the day, every 4-5 hours or so, just to check in with you. He never expected you to answer, since he really only did it to calm his nerves between closing hours. Even if you didn't need him today, (which you did) he needed you.

He'd daydream about you rubbing his shoulders or kissing his temples on his smoke breaks when he needed you most. He wondered if you ever thought about him the way he did about you. Whenever he'd get up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, he'd turn his head to see you sleeping peacefully, bundled up in the covers.

He wished he didn't wait until you were asking him why he was so distant to tell you how much he needed you. Carmen thought about that night all the time; the two of you on his couch, lips inches away from each other when he said, "I wanna do this with you. I want you." From that point on, everything seemed to change. Carmen remembered every little thing about you. He never stopped trying to get to know you better; he tried to learn something new about you every single day. Whether it be how you liked your coffee, or how much you loved when he left little notes on the fridge for you.

You placed a hand on the nape of his neck, his gold chain feeling cold against your skin. You melted into his hand as he cupped your cheek, so much that you leaned in and placed your lips on his. Carmen's jaw dropped just a bit, his tongue slipping past your own. You couldn't help but giggle into every open-mouthed kiss when he pulled you on top of him by your waist.

Your legs were straddling Carmen's hips while your foreheads pressed against each other. He whispered "you don't have to go, I love you so much," and even a "I don't want you to go," whenever your lips parted. Hot tears clawed at your waterline. Neither of you knew what came over yourselves, but you needed each other more now than you did any other early morning. Your hands on Carmen's shoulders supported your weight while his rubbed circles on your back.

With your breath hitched in your throat through gentle sloppy kisses and while you tried so hard not to break down into his Carmen's arms, it was like he'd never been more sure about anything in his life.

"I can tell syd I can't make it today." Carmen tried convincing you, planting a kiss on your forehead and earning a smile from you. Your hands grazed over his tattoos, reminding him of how much he missed you. He was willing to bail out to make sure that you'd be okay.

"Thank you, Bear."

"I've got you."

[forevercr1nge]

How the hell is this an actual scene in the movie

[theheroandthehoodlum]

Happy Halloween, Greasers 🧡👻

[screebyy]

A little crowlyon dawning comic wheee i finished it please clap

Next

I have lots more written on this but idk if i will do another comic or write part of it as a fic or some mix of both. im just very normal about them right now 🙂

ID/transcript below cut

Panel 1: Crow is walking down a path outside of the dreaming city with a brown cross-body messenger bag slung over his shoulder. Crow is holding the strap of the messenger bag and looking up in exasperation as he talks to Glint, who is floating beside him and speaking emphatically. Crow: “There's still time to turn back…” Glint: “Don't!” Crow: “But -” Glint: “You said you wanted to go through with this!” Crow: “I know but -” Panel 2: Close up of Crow’s eyes as he spots something off-screen. He looks startled. Crow: “!-”

Panel 3: Jolyon is standing next to a natural stone wall, looking away from the viewer. He is resting one hand on the wall and staring out at the Dreaming City watchtower and buildings in the distance, which are overtaken with taken corruption and several taken orbs hang in the air around the city. Crow is standing in the foreground, looking at Jolyon with one hand resting on his messenger bag. Crow: “Jolyon.”

Panel 4: Close shot of Jolyon turning towards the viewer, he is only visible from his shoulder to his nose so his expression is neutral and unreadable.

Panel 5: Camera is looking over Jolyon’s shoulder as he looks at crow. Crow looks at Jolyon with determination. He is holding the strap of his bag with one hand where it falls across his chest. Glint is transmatting away with an enthusiastic expression. Jolyon’s face is not visible.  Crow: “Thanks for meeting me” Glint: “ok good luck bye”

Panel 6: Close shot of Crow’s face. He is looking down and to his left, blushing lightly. He looks uncertain and slightly embarrassed. Crow: “I’m sorry if you… didn’t want to hear from me.” Jolyon (offscreen): “It’s fine.”

Panel 7: Close shot of Jolyon’s face. He is staring down at Crow with a distant, slightly pained expression.  Jolyon: “What do you want?”

Panel 8: Close shot of Crow’s hands gripping the strap of the messenger bag. He is twisting it with both hands, clearly fidgeting due to nervousness. Crow: “I’m…”

Panel 9: Side shot of Crow and Jolyon looking at each other. Crow is leaning slightly forward, while Jolyon looks entirely neutral. Crow: “I’m trying to make amends.” Jolyon: “Amends. For what?”

Panel 10: Close shot of Crow’s face. He looks confused but determined, and is looking up at Jolyon with a furrowed brow.  Crow: “For-... For Uldren, for everything-”

Panel 11: Extreme closeup of Jolyon’s eyes. He looks angry and his eyes are suddenly glowing with intensity as he glares down at Crow. Jolyon: “No. What specifically?”

Panel 12: Low angle looking up at Jolyon, who is glaring down at Crow with an intense, angry expression, bordering on hatred. Jolyon: “Tell me. What exactly do you remember?”

Panel 13: Extreme closeup of Jolyon’s mouth as he sneers, speaking through gritted teeth. Jolyon: “Crow.”

Panel 14: Shot of Crow’s face, he looks startled and distraught as he stares at Jolyon. Crow: “...”

Panel 15: Crow looks away to his right, looking ashamed. Crow: “I remember enough. I remember when things were good between us. And when they were… less good.”

Panel 16: Extreme close up of Jolyon’s left eye, he is looking down at Crow and looks alarmed. Crow: “I remember the garden.”

Panel 17: Wide shot from behind Crow. Crow is looking up at Jolyon. Jolyon is flinching and looking swiftly away from Crow to his left. Crow: “After that… things start to get confused. Honestly, I don’t understand everything that happened between us at the end… But I know it wasn’t what he wanted.”

Panel 18: Shot of Jolyon looking away, looking extremely upset as Crow talks. Crow: “So… I’m sorry. For all of it.”

Panel 19: Extreme close up of Jolyon’s eyes, he is squeezing his eyes shut and still looks emotional. Crow: “And so is he.”

Jolyon: “...”

Panel 20: Wide shot from behind Jolyon. Jolyon turns back to look down at crow, his face is not visible. Crow is still looking up at him. Jolyon: “Okay. Is that all?”

Panel 21: Shot of Crow’s face, turning down to look at the messenger bag at his hip. Crow looks nervous and is blushing with embarrassment. Crow: “Um…”

Panel 22: Close shot of Crow’s hand as he opens the messenger bag and reaches inside. A purple box is visible inside the bag. Crow: “No.”

Panel 23: Wide shot of Crow. He has pulled the purple box out of the bag, and is looking down at it, blushing slightly. In an inset panel, Jolyon is looking at him suspiciously. Crow: “Do you know about the dawning?” Jolyon: “Yes… The Awoken don’t celebrate it.” Crow: “I know.”

Panel 24: Close shot of Crow’s face as he looks down at the box. He is smiling wistfully, and blushing. Crow: “But… in the city, we give each other sweets, to say thanks. And… I don’t know. Now, it always reminds me of this time…”

The background shifts to a black backdrop, with white snowflakes falling quickly.

Panel 25: Extreme close up of Uldren Sov’s face in a flashback. It is dark, and snowing. Uldren is wearing a hood and is hunched over while looking straight ahead at the viewer. His hair is obscuring his right eye, and he looks serious and intense. Crow: “It was centuries ago. Back when the last city was just a tiny settlement.”

Panel 26: Close up of Uldren holding a pair of dark gray-purple binoculars, with glowing magenta lenses. He is resting his hand with the binoculars on one knee in the air. Uldren is wearing a dark blue shirt and black gloves with burnt orange detailing, and a long black cloak. Crow: “I… He was doing surveillance on earth. Keeping tabs on the people trying to build a sanctuary beneath the traveler.”

Panel 27: A wide shot from behind Uldren, who is sitting on top of a dilapidated building on earth. He is looking down on a festive nighttime scene. There are several buildings that have been partially destroyed and reclaimed by time, but dark silhouettes of people have made a home in them. The windows are all glowing with firelight, and the buildings have been decorated with glowing garlands and colorful flags. Between the buildings, many people are visible, holding hands, hugging, and waving at each other. It is snowing very hard, and snow is piled up around Uldren and the village. Four inset panels show closer views of people within the village.  The first shows a woman hugging a man from behind. The man is holding a steaming hot cake inside a baking tray, and is wearing baking gloves. The woman is pressing her face against his neck, and the man is turning towards her and laughing. The second panel shows a human man throwing his arm over the shoulder of a blue exo. The Exo is waving at somebody to the left, and the man is looking the other direction and lifting a tankard of beer in cheers. The third panel shows an Awoken person and a human woman sitting at a table. The Awoken is holding a warm mug of tea, and is smiling lightly at the human woman. The human woman is turned towards the Awoken and is leaning close to them. She has placed one hand on their arm tenderly. The fourth panel shows a closeup of two people, one with dark hair and one with light hair. The light haired person is cupping the dark haired person with one hand, and is leaning in to kiss their other cheek. The dark haired person is blushign and laughing with their eyes closed. Crow: “They had almost nothing. But they were celebrating. Sharing, and laughing.”

Panel 28: Another closeup of Uldren’s eye as he watches the scenes below him, he now looks sad and distant. Crow: “It was snowing, nonstop. It was so cold. And he was so lonely…”

Panel 29: Uldren is walking away from the viewer, through a dark pine forest covered in snow. His cloak is blowing in the wind.

Panel 30: Uldren’s ship is flying towards the Dreaming city in the distance, weaving between two cliffs in the reef. Snow is blowing in the ships glowing purple trail.

Panel 31: Wide, side view of Uldren as he walks through the snow-covered dreaming city. In the background, ornate arches and pillars can be seen, along with an awoken statue. Snow is falling hard, and it looks windy.

Panel 32: Shot over Uldren’s shoulder as he bangs loudly on a wooden door. His hood is up and his face is not visible.

Panel 33: Waist-high shot of Jolyon opening the door. Jolyon is wearing a green sweater with the sleeves rolled up, and gray sweatpants. Jolyon: “Hello?”

Panel 34: Side shot of Uldren rushing inside, tackling Jolyon with a hug. Jolyon looks startled, and is stumbling back inside the doorway as the snow blows inside. Jolyon: “Wha-”

Panel 35: Side shot of Jolyon and Uldren embracing. Uldren has buried his face in Jolyon’s shoulder, and Jolyon is cupping the back of his head tenderly with one hand while his other arm drapes around Uldren’s shoulder. Uldren is clutching Jolyon’s sweater with one hand. Jolyon: “Aren’t you supposed to be on earth? Why are you back so soon?” Uldren: “Why do you think? I was freezing my ass off.”

Panel 36: Close shot of Uldren’s face pressed into Jolyon’s sweater, he is smiling wide and blushing slightly. His hair is falling over his face and his eyes are not visible. Uldren: “Listen- this is kind of stupid, but… Do you want to bake something with me? Something sweet?”

Panel 37: Shot of Jolyon’s hands in present day, holding the purple box that Crow has given him. The lid has been removed, revealing that it is full of cookies. They look like italian almond cookes, covered in powdered sugar and slivered almonds. Jolyon: “Hah… you remember that?”

Panel 38: Crow glances away, smiling nostalgically and blushing lightly. Crow: “Yeah. We made… well, I guess they were kind of like almond cookes? There were almonds in them, at least…”

Flashback Panel 1: In the background, a memory from the flashback is visible. It shows Uldren and Jolyon standing in a kitchen. Jolyon is standing behind Uldren and holding his waist affectionately. Uldren is holding a mixing bowl on the kitchen counter with one hand, and is pouring something into the bowl with his other hand. Several ingredients are visible strewn all over the counter, along with piles of spilled dough. Jolyon: “Haha, what are you doing? You’ve got to measure.” Uldren: “Following my royal intuition.” Jolyon: “Your intuition kind of looks like cat puke.”

Flashback Panel 2: View of Jolyon and Uldren from the front. Uldren is mixing the dough with a wooden spoon, and looking down at the bowl with a soft smile. Jolyon is behind him, with one arm wrapped around his waist. His other hand is holding Uldren’s arm tenderly. Jolyon is leaning down to kiss Uldren’s cheek. Jolyon: “You’re making a mess of my kitchen, Sov.” Uldren: “I’ll clean it up.” Jolyon: “Will you?” Uldren: “For you? Probably.”

Panel 39: In present day, Jolyon is staring down at the tin of cookies, smiling faintly. Crow (offscreen): “We didn’t really have much of a plan…” Jolyon: “Uldren wasn’t big on plans. Or recipes.”

Panel 40: Jolyon says from offscreen, above the rest of the panel: “Whatever they were, they didn’t turn out very good.” In the panel, Crow is blushing furiously, looking nervously at a thought bubble to his left with a shaky smile. Within his thought bubble another memory is visible, of Jolyon and Uldren kissing passionately on a couch. In the background of the memory, several “BEEP” sound effects are visible. Jolyon is on top of Uldren, holding Uldren’s head in one hand while kissing his neck. Uldren is smirking, while pulling Jolyon’s shirt off with both hands. Jolyon (flashback): “Oven’s going off. We should probably get that.” Uldren (flashback): “I don’t give a shit.” Crow (present day): “Um. Yeah. They were kind of… burnt…”

Panel 41: In present day, Jolyon is smiling faintly, looking at one of the cookies as he holds it up in front of his face. Crow (offscreen): “These are better, I hope.” Jolyon: “Seems like it.”

Panel 42: Close up of Jolyon taking a bite of the cookie.

Panel 43: Crow is smiling enthusiastically up at Jolyon. Jolyon (offscreen): “They’re good.” Crow: “Good!”

Panel 44: Close up of Jolyon. His smile is falling, he looks seems distant and emotional as he looks down at Crow. His eyes are glistening with the first signs of tears. Jolyon: “I uh…”

Panel 45: Jolyon turning to his right, digging the heel of his hand into his right eye as his tears start to fall. He looks distraught, squeezing his eyes shut. Jolyon: “I should go.”

Panel 46: Shot over Crow’s shoulder, Jolyon is walking swiftly away, holding one hand over his face. Crow is looking after him, with one hand reaching awkwardly towards Jolyon. Crow: “Wait…” Jolyon: “Thank you.”

Panel 47: Shot of Crow’s face as he watches Jolyon leave. He looks startled and upset. Crow: “...”

Panel 48: Crow facepalms, looking frustrated and embarrassed. Crow: AUGH.

Panel 49: Crow is sitting on a rock on the cliffside, he is hunched over and propping up his face on one hand. He looks defeated and is sighing. Glint has re-appeared next to him, and looks enthusiastic. Glint: “That could have gone worse! He said they were good! How do you feel?” Crow. “Fantastic. Why did I let you talk me into this?”

[pjo-hoo-toa-freakazoid]

Doodles of the Tartar sauce boys who are madly in love with each other 👍🏼✨

[funishment-time]

"good bones" - maggie smith