#i thought i posted it but i guess i didnt???

[grimsonandclover]

titular song of the post You & I - Jeff Buckley

2006!Patrick Zweig x College!Reader

a short blurb about Patrick coming over during winter break to help you out. a little hurt/comfort (a gift for @shecriestotheclickingoftime)

SFW

1.7k words

very briefly proofread/edited because you asked for this like two/three days ago </3 and i didnt want you to wait longer

For Spring Break, you were going to drive over to Nevada with your friends. Freshly twenty-one, you were ready to go crazy. Instead, you went crazy over the toilet in your small dorm bathroom with a stomach bug your boyfriend, Patrick, brought with from tour. He went crazy in a hotel bathroom.

For Thanksgiving Break, you wanted to go home, but the drive was too long and your car broke down an hour out. You spent the week in your dorm eating frozen box stuffing and a turkey sandwich while on a call with your family, your account freshly hitting $4.72 after getting the vehicle towed and preparing your feast. You could practically smell the food at home. At least Patrick rented out a Home For The Holidays DVD, and you spent the night homesick in bed with him, thinking about your family while you watched.

For Winter Break, with a car still out of commission, you decided to fly home-- until you saw ticket prices. Your parents already spent what they had on your grandmother's hip replacement surgery, so that meant another frozen dinner and a phone call in your patheticly decorated dorm. You wanted to be there for that, the surgery, too, but they knew you couldn't afford to, so you sent your grandmother a bouquet of her favorite flowers with the last of your paycheck. They told you they didn't know how many Christmases she has left in her.

It's California, so it doesn't snow. Your parents email you pictures of your childhood home's front yard, and guess what, it's covered. That tree you used to climb on as a kid is bare and frozen, the sidewalk you'd draw with chalk on on summer days now caked with snow. Outside your dorm window, everything looks virtually identical than it did six months ago.

When the call is over and your dinner is barely touched, you slump across your tiny single bed, face first in the pillow. You'd scream into it, but you don't have enough energy. Unfortunately for both of you, Patrick has been dragged to the Zweig home back in Berlin for his annual mandatory visit.

The night is spent in quiet, unwelcomed solitude. Everyone you know is home for the holidays. Everyone but you. When you pace the dorm building halls, it's silent. Glenda, the cafeteria worker, took the night off because even she has family to see, so you and the few other stragglers are left to your own devices. The frozen dinner tastes shit, the vending machine snacks taste shit, and the local pizza place you love is closed.

You find yourself sinking more and more into that place you thought you left in highschool. You thought you were better, now. That was behind you.

Maybe it's because you've never been truly alone since you graduated, not like this. If it wasn't family around you, it was friends, or Patrick. But they're all singing carols and cutting through tough steak and slightly burned potatos. Now, you're truly left alone with your thoughts.

Patrick sends you a few texts throughout his day, promising to call as soon as his parents give him a moments peace. Your day-- your week is so full of nothing that the 8 hour time difference doesn't even matter to you, you catch them all as they're sent.

Eventually, the texts go quiet. You lay with your back on the floor, the 'Sketches...' CD you got one year for Christmas playing quietly from the corner of your room, staring up at the ceiling. You & I, the last track on the first disc, plays. Closing your eyes, you just let the melancholy you've been trying to deny wash over your for once.

"If we had only known in a way, we wouldn't reach this ground"

In waves. In crushing, drowning waves. You end up curling into your side on the floor, staring at the twisted carpet fibers. You don't cry.

"You were my only home, silver eyes I want to see you shine"

You just wanna go home. It's so quiet. It's so silent and the silent is so loud, even with the disc playing. When it's quiet like this, your mind tends to drift to everything that's ever hurt you. That's why you sleep with a white noise machine when you don't have Patrick's heartbeat to listen to. You tend to remember too much. He once said, while watching you stare at the ceiling one night, that you've got sad eyes. It's funny, cause your mom once mentioned it in passing while on a rant about how you isolated yourself too much in your junior year of highschool. Is that really a trait of yours? Sad eyes? How can you have sad eyes, so much so that others notice? How does that change? You can't blink it away, or rub them till they're red instead of blue. You asked him what he meant, voice low and half asleep, but he shook his head. "I dunno why I said that. I'm being a dick, I'm sorry. Go to sleep, kid." And then he ran his long fingers through your hair until you did. You almost liked thinking about that, because his fingers felt nice, but then you realized they weren't here now, that your hair was throughouly unbrushed completely. In fact, you don't remember if you showered this week.

"And we will feel the weight Fall away from us in time Searching our past for the true"

You can't find much energy to care. Because back at home, your little nephew whom you'd die for is in his PJs running down the hallway from the guestbedroom, jumping into your parent's bed, and begging to open presents. You hope the gift you got him arrived on time. The dagger twists when you realize you won't get to see his reaction-- it's always a highlight of your year. One day, he'll be too old to jump on your lap and squeeze the lights out of you, thanking you for being a better gift-giver than Saint Nick himself. Now, you do cry a little. Actually, just a single tear slips, because you havent drinken enough water lately to cry much.

The door behind you opens, and a shadow casts over you from the hallway light.

"You and I, you and I, you and I All for you"

"Baby, what are you doing on the floor?"

Patrick's got as many bags under his arms as he has under his eyes, a worn leather jacket over his shoulders, dark denim jeans, long-loved sneakers, and orange knit scarf around his neck making him look much more put together than you, because your outfit of choice is a pair of his sweatpants you stole once and a bra. You weren't really expecting company.

You roll back onto your back, looking up at him confused as he shuts the door and sets his bag down. Patrick unravels the scarf from his neck and shrugs the jacket off, crouching down and running those fingers through your hair like a stray kitten he'd found on the street. You could purr. His eyebrows are knit close as he analyzes the state his girlfriend's in. He'd last seen you a month ago, and Patrick would like to think he'd left you in a better state than this. He asks his question again, voice lower and softer. You don't move to get up.

"It's comfortable."

"You're, like, two feet away from your bed."

Your head lolls to the side, looking at said bed. You hum in acknowlagement. "It's comfortable."

He sighs, getting comfortable on the floor with you. A twelve hour flight just destroyed his back because he flew economy for the first time in his life and it's not made for him and his German height, and all he wants is to drag you to the king sized bed in his hotel down the road, but he'll scarifice himself for you. He'd spent a total of three days and eight hours at his parent's house, taking the earliest flight here to surprise you before Christmas officially ended-- meaning he skipped on the actual Christmas celebrations at home. He didn't care, it wouldn't be a shit show he hasn't witnessed before. "What's wrong, kid?"

Patrick asks it so softly, so tender and warm, so genuine. It feels like you're home. So, you really start crying.

Warm arms wrap around your waist, a hand coming up to the back of your neck and pulling you to his chest. His shirt is slightly sweaty, and your tears mix with it as he holds you in silence, letting you let it all out.

Based on your calls and texts recently, Patrick knew you weren't in the best place. You'd spent a night sniffling over the phone about your homesickness, how the walls of your dorm felt like they were caving in and suffocating you but at the same time, you were too tired to go out. He tried distracting you by telling you about all the embarassing things his older brother was doing back home, or how his mother got so drunk she accidentally mistook Patrick for her own brother and confessed things he could never unhear, but it just made you miss your own family more. When the call ended and he laid in bed, he struggled sleeping knowing how much you were hurting. He's only seen you like that once before, when your grandfather died a few months after you started dating and a week before midterms.

It's when his shirt is really soaked that you pull away, taking a hiccuping breath to compose yourself as he wipes your tears for you.

"I'm sorry, that was... fuck, your shirt."

"I can wash it."

Your wet eyes look up at his tired ones, and you're so greatful he's here. You feel less alone. "Let's move to the bed, my back hurts." He whispers.

Despite that, he carries you and sets you onto the matress, pulling the blanket over the two of you. It's been a long week, but his arms and warmth, your heartbeat in his ear, make it feel a little better.

"I said, we will feel the weight Fall away from us in time Searching our past for a true You and I, you and I, you and I All for you"

[buttercupart]

only took almost a year, but the Summer Months crew references are finally done

[verflares]

(click for higher quality!) draconified link concept ive been chipping away at this past week ..... here's my funny little compendium concept for him:

"A heroic spirit has taken the form of this bestial dragon. Unlike it's kin, this creature exhibits an extremely aggressive disposition. It appears highly territorial, and will relentlessly chase down those who disturb its skywide patrols - of which it seems to be endlessly searching for either a long-time vassal or foe. Unfortunately, it seems the spirit within has long since forgotten exactly who it was looking for…"

[lucabyte]

i feel like people are sleeping on the occam's razor situation of how buckwild it is to outright accuse a guy of being a clone of your friend even if you DO have a lot of circumstantial evidence. there's other options is what im saying. they could just be like. a guy. that's a sensible deduction. you should explore that deduction. ignore my shirt that reads I <3 RED HERRINGS.

i still think odile has the correct theory on lock but she's smart enough to know it needs like... a real smoking gun to be able to bring it up without sounding insane.

anyway. (mirabelle voice) i know its rude to speculate but has anyone else noticed the grieving? they seem to be grieving. does anyone have any thoughts on the grieving? i have some thoughts on the grieving.

[nouverx]

WHY SO SERIOUS?? 🎉 Nika is here to party!!

A little unfinished project I started on flipaclip last year while the Luffy and Kaido fight was still happening in the anime :D

[soma021794]

[spookberry]

Illustration based off what I consider to've been my first real date.

Twas the summer of 2016, and we went and saw Ghostbusters <3

[jasperthejester]

me: finally accepting theres a good chance im autistic and starting to work up the courage to ask my parents to see if i could get a diagnoses but being scared to

my mom: do you ever think you have adhd? if you want to do a screening for add next time your at the doctors you can

me:

[audliminal]

It's Just a Game, Right? Pt 8

Masterpost

"So I think they're using other languages," Tim says, the moment Bernard opens the door.

"Well hello to you too my beloved boyfriend," Bernard responds, kissing Tim on the cheek and pulling him into the apartment.

"Shut up," Tim says, following Bernard to the table. This is hardly the first time Tim has skipped past pleasantries like that, and Bernard seems to find it more amusing every time.

"Aw, I dunno if I can do that. I really like to talk to you," Bernard grins conspiratorially. "Plus, then I wouldn't get to tell you that you're half right."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, obviously other people noticed the comment, right?" Bernard, gestures towards the computer, where Tim can see the cryptic comment. It already has dozens of responses. "Mostly people are just freaking out about it, because this is like, our first instance of direct communication from them, but one of the people who saw it actually recognized what language it is."

"Just one?" Tim frowns.

"Yeah. It's called esperanto. I googled it and apparently it's a conlang from the late 1800s which is pretty cool. It was, like, invented to be kind of a universal language, I guess? It pulls from a lot of different languages, so that's why it looks like multiple languages."

"Huh."

"But! There's still the encoded portions to figure out, because the translation as-is doesn't really make any sense." Bernard scrolls and points to the translation that a commenter had offered. It reads To be fqzuhsx-ayccas is to be qtdkv-avnwkwkb; the veil afph-gqkduik but it is meant to igpmtwi-ocdq. Determination in the face of doubt.

"Huh," Tim studies the text, then notices something. "They've specifically encoded the verbs."

"Yep," Bernard shrugs. "I haven't tried anything for the encrypted stuff yet; figured i might as well wait for you."

"Okay, well I guess we start with the simplest? We know they've used caesar ciphers before, plus this is in response to what we did with the first caesar ciphers before, so we might as well try one of your decoder websites for that first."

"Seems reasonable," Bernard says, pulling up the website from before. He quickly copies the first word over and hits the button. "Well shit, that was quick."

"Only the first half, though." Tim mutters. "Do it to the rest of them." Bernard copies and decodes the rest. In short order, they have a the first half of each encryption decoded.

"To be gravity is to be orbit, the veil disk but it is meant to eclipse?" Bernard frowns. "That... doesn't make much more sense."

"What's up with the focus on astronomy, too."

"Oh, right, we haven't gotten that far yet. They keep referencing space stuff. There's like, a running theory about these messages being supposed to have come through a black hole?"

"Is that even possible? i thought black holes ate stuff forever."

"I dunno, I'm not really into space stuff. Besides it's like, sure there's evidence for it, and space seems to be narratively important? But the premise seems kind of contrived to me."

"You think they're doing something bigger than what everybody is seeing." Tim stares at the forum thread. If anything was going to give Bernard's theory some credence, it would be what literally just happened.

"Exactly." Bernard posted on a forum arguing that he thought the game ran deeper than people realized. And the creators, who so far hadn't interacted directly, had responded to that post, with a triple-encrypted message.

"Each shift was one further away than the last," Tim thinks rapidly. "It started with language, which could be either a part of the effort to encrypt it, or a part of the intended meaning. Possibly both. Then, they used caesar ciphers for the first layer of encryption, the same thing they used in their first post. How did they encrypt things in the second post?"

"I think I kind of mentioned it before, but the second post used a vigenere cipher. The names of the people in the first video were the keys, if I remember right."

"The first is the key to the second."

"What-"

"Take the second part and decode it with the first."

"Dude your mind is scary sometimes," Bernard laughs, but moves to do as Tim says, revealing the first encrypted word. "To be seen. That works..."

Tim starts writing down the full message, as Bernard decodes the rest. Finally, they have the full text of the message the creators intended to send.

"To be seen is to be remembered; the veil distracts but it is meant to hide. Determination in the face of doubt." Tim reads.

"Huh," Bernard says, leaning over to read it for himself. "Well, now we know what it says. Now we just need to figure out what that means."

[quirinah]

ummmmmmm guys this dungeons looking a little dark here..........................ummmm..... hello??? guys??

[luck-of-the-drawings]

so REVENGE, HUH? or justice, if that makes you feel better. it tastes the same when cooked just right. 'I REALLY WANTED A BROTHER.' such a shame to burn a bridge you so desperately wanted to keep, especially when it wasnt even you who started the fire. especially when you hope that not a single fragment of that bridge ever washes ashore.[MAY IT ROT FAR FROM MY SIGHTS] an unfortunate loss! atleast he has his friends.

[awerzo]

quiet moments

[kaeyachi]

One of the probable reasons as to why Kaeya didn't arrive on time for Crepus and Diluc when they were attacked was because he, and the knights with him, had no vision, and thus, cannot use a teleport waypoint.

Him receiving his cryo vision when he was supposed to get scorched by Diluc was genuinely the biggest slap to the face given to him by Celestia. It arrived just in time to save HIM.

Even now, the vision only heals and shields him alone as a manifestation of his desire to keep living from that fight... but he can't use it to help others.

[ink-the-artist]

forgive me if you've been asked this before or if its annoying, but how did you learn to use colored pencils like that? your art is so special to me.

ty :) I took an art class for a few years where our teacher had us buy prismacolor pencils as one of the art supplies and had us use them kinda like paints, pressing down hard right away and blending the colors together. its not how youre supposed to use them she was just trying to teach us to use color and ig this was more to the point. I picked them up again years after i stopped going to that class just bc they were there and i wanted to play around w them a bit and ended up actually enjoying it when doing it on my own terms lol

[sesamenom]

the classic the classic (pink)

neon pastel

sleepwear party

formal dinner

behold a collection of C&C nargothrond-era outfit doodles, inspired by PD outfits from @braywashed / @kitwilsonsass

[sirenspells]

Werewolf Mari werewolf Mari werewolf Mari

She actually got bit a couple months prior to the recital (on the same day they all went beetle-catching), but it isn't until that night after Sunny throws his violin that her intense anger triggers her transformation for the first time

Bonus unshaded Mari: