#and patrick got art back (and also be in their lives)

[blues-valentine]

I think some people that are so convinced Tashi doesn’t love Art are so fixated in portraying her as a heartless manipulative woman that only cares about him in the sense of Tennis and that can all be true but she also does love him in her own twisted self absorbing ways, implying the opposite feels offensive to Tashi who isn’t the type to submit herself to a relationship of 15 years with someone she could barely tolerate.

She is absolutely living vicariously through Art as a Tennis player, but you also get the sense of intimacy and small moments that Tashi is Art’s wife and partner, not just his coach. It’s subtle, but it’s there. Them cuddling on the coach could easily be them on any Sunday morning when their relationship isn’t at odds. And you can see Tashi smiling a little in that moment.

Their relationship was also build on a genuine interest — they didn’t get together right after Tashi’s injury since she was in a vulnerable place. They got together years later on a date where Tashi was like a flustered 20ish year old that allows him to see some of her defenses down. Tashi also asks Art if he’s still in love with her (as she is now and not the fierce tennis player he once knew) because here’s the thing about Tashi, she says she doesn’t want to be loved but later asks him if he’s still in love with her cause she wants love not matter how hard she convinces herself she doesn’t — and Art is someone that can give her that feeling of this unconditional love. Someone pointed out Art is the person she has vulnerable scenes with and I believe he does bring that out of her even if she resists that to put on a stronger facade. As opposed to Patrick, that usually lights up her impulsive side. Art is more like the steady calm.

(Which is why Tashi and Patrick would’ve never worked in a relationship because they’re both too impulsive and he would’ve never allow her to control him and his career like she wanted).

I believe Tashi’s real true love is Tennis, but she does love Art. I think she’s full of bullshit saying she would leave Art if he stops playing because I think she would never leave him. She would’ve ages ago. Their relationship feels odd because we are only seeing their marriage falling apart because Art doesn’t want to play anymore and has lost its passion for it but makes you wonder how their marriage would normally be in all the good days where Art had a passion for Tennis.

And a lot of people be like “but she cheated on him with Patrick twice!” but she can love Art and still pursue the thrill Patrick provides. First, Tashi has never been implied to be a constant cheater, it’s just Patrick (in throuple we trust). This people are all morally questionable but a thing that is common about Tashi’s encounters with Patrick is that she’s always on a bad place. The first time in Atlanta was after she saw Anna (the girl she played with and won the same day she meet both Art and Patrick) is in the first place without a rival, a place that could’ve been hers if she was still playing — she sees Patrick being a loser (affectionate) and is low key resentful of Art because he’s being a successful tennis player so they bond over that, about the feeling of being a failure. And then later, Tashi is in another bad place because Art doesn’t want to play Tennis anymore and if he stops playing then her link to Tennis is also over. The game with Patrick is her last chance to make him love Tennis again. And when she sleeps with Patrick, she’s frustrated because she’s seeing how Art lost confidence in the game and so she goes there to ensure Art doesn’t lose. She tells Art she would leave him if he loses, but then goes to beg Patrick to ensure that doesn’t happen. And that sealed the deal for me. Yes, she could also be doing all that just because she doesn’t want to lose since she’s basically living through Art — but I think that’s a very one dimensional take because Patrick asked her in the original screenplay if Art winning would make her love him again, to which she responds she never stopped loving him. Because, even if he loses the game, she would love him. And one thing she has in common with Pat is their love for Art.

Like, Tashi resents Art because he is living the life she should be having as a professional tennis player, that’s what Patrick was referring to when he told her she hated Art, and while she hates being seem as just the wife and not the tennis player herself, she also hates the fact she would never truly leave him. Let Tashi have feelings, not everything is so one dimensional.

[222col]

is it casual now?

★ patrick zweig x reader ★ based on the song 'casual' by chappell roan (rlly reccomend listening first!!) ★ 5.2k ★ 18+ | inc: angst (!!!), smut, m + f oral, public sex, breeding ★ an: patrick is a college student & also has a sister for context (part two)

patrick's barely dressed as he starts to leave, picking up his phone from your desk, opening the door before turning round to look at you once more. "oh yeah, my family want you to come to our beach house this weekend." no emotion on his face as he stands in your doorway. "they do or you do?" you question, sitting up in your bed, blanket covering your body. "my sister told my mom how much you helped her the other week, so they wanted you to come, you don't have to." he's fiddling with his keys, aching to leave your room. "okay, just text me the details." patrick nods to you and darts down the hall. getting yourself dressed before calling your best friend.

"sounds like his sister wants you there, not him." she tells you down the phone. "well maybe, but he could have just told them no or not invited me." you're pacing your room, desperately trying to defend your excitement for a weekend with patrick. "ugh, why are you so hung up on this guy? you're being such a loser, you know he told you no strings." you've had this conversation with your best friend so many times, yet the words just don't get through to you. "i know, i know. i just like him, okay? i think it could go somewhere." you hear her sigh through the phone. "have you heard the things he tells his friends about you?" you hold your breath, knowing this isn't going to be good. "he calls you a slut, an easy one at that, i heard him talking to art about it at tennis." you sink onto the floor, back leaning against your wall. "i'm sorry, i know it's awful to hear, but you need to get it into your head, that he doesn't think of you like that."

patrick picks you up friday afternoon, driving you both to his parents' beach house. his hand on your thigh as you stare out the window. "what's up with you? normally you would have dragged me into the back seat by now." patrick questions. "well this all just feels weird, you're driving us to spend a weekend with your parents, i feel like your girlfr-" patrick doesn't even let you finish your sentence. "we're not together." you shake your head and return your gaze to the window. "yeah, you've made that very clear, don't you worry." turning up the radio so patrick doesn't return with a sarcastic comment or dig any further. the rest of the journey is silent between the two of you, the radio serving as a distraction, after a few hours you pull up to patrick's parents' house. his younger sister is waving at you both from the front door. you met her at a frat party patrick brought her along to, the two of you got on well, and you helped her when some frat boys were being way too forward.

grabbing his own bag from the car, he leaves you to collect your own from the trunk. "not even gonna help this nice young lady with her bags, some gentleman i raised you to be." patrick's father says, appearing on the porch. patrick snatches your bag from your hands before pushing his way into the house, introducing yourself to his parents, patrick's sister shows you to your room. "you'll be sharing with patrick, obviously." she states, pushing open the door of the room. "what?" you question, patrick rolling his eyes and pulling you into the room, closing the door on his sister. "i can't exactly tell my parents we're fuck buddies, can i?"

later that night, patrick brings you with him to a bonfire on the beach with some of his friends that live nearby. "zweig, it's been too long." he's engulfed into the reunions but just about remembers to introduce you to his friends. beers are shared as marshmallows are toasted on the fire, all of you sat on logs and in the sand. one of patrick's friends coming to sit next to you as patrick catches up with his neighbour. "so, are you and patrick, like, together?" he asks you, he's not bad looking, so you think about entertaining him. "no, we just fuck." you laugh into your can of beer, taking another swig. "you're single then?" he asks you, shuffling closer. looking to him and nodding, his eyes lighting up. a shiver runs down your spine, making you realise how cold you are. "here, take this." he places his jacket over your shoulders, you could dream of patrick doing such a chivalrous act. slipping your arms through the sleeves and thanking him. "you're really pretty, by the way." that's all it takes. your lips lean up to kiss him. the only compliments you get are from patrick while he's inside you or frat boys as they spank your ass at parties. his hands wrap around your waist before you feel yourself being dragged away from his lips.

patrick pulls you off down the beach by your arm, stopping in his tracks when his friends are out of ear shot, looking down at you, his chest rising. "what the fuck are you doing?" he asks you, his words harsh. "i was making out with that guy before you interrupted." you return, arms crossed. "may i remind you that you're here with me, not some random fucker you just met?" you can feel his breath on your face as he speaks. "and may i remind you that we're not together, and i can kiss who i like?" patrick loves it when your bitchy side comes out, but right now he can't acknowledge it. eye contact hasn't broken once between you, titling your head as you wait for patrick's response. nothing slips from his lips before he grabs your face and pushes his mouth onto yours. hungrily kissing you, pushing your body back until you hit the rocks, his hand reaching under your skirt. "your friends are right there." you groan into his ear, looking back to look you in the eyes as his hand slips into your underwear. "do i look like i care?"

his fingers stroke up through your folds. "neither do you, by the feel of things." patrick hums, bringing his fingers to his lips as he sucks the wetness from between his digits, before pushing them into your mouth. smiling and nodding his head as he removes his fingers and slips them back into your underwear, inserting his two middle fingers into your cunt. the rocks disguising your bodies from patrick's friends, but you know if they looked closely enough they'd see everything. quiet moans leave your lips as patrick fucks you with his fingers, his other hand coming up to cover your mouth. "shut the fuck up, or do you want all my friends to see you riding my fingers?" patrick's fingers move at pace, curling up to hit your g-spot as he sucks bruises onto your neck. bringing his thumb up to circle your clit, leaning down to palm him through his shorts, grabbing and rubbing his cock through the fabric. "you want it, don't you?" patrick smirks, as you softly nod your head. "you want me to fuck you here on the beach, up against these rocks as my friends stand twenty feet away?" he can feel you smirking under his hand, just nodding your head. "god, where did you come from?" he moans, pulling his hands off your body to shuffle his shorts down his body. looking over to his friends, who are all engrossed in a drinking game of some kind, he lifts your leg, holding it up against the rocks, pushing your panties to the side as he pushes himself into your cunt.

leaning his elbow on the rock behind your head to keep himself steady, his hand covering your mouth again as his hips slap against your skin, thrusting himself in and out of you. even his hand pushing into your face can barely contain the noises you're making. "shut up." he groans into your ear, slamming himself into you. his cock filling you up as his friends are none the wiser. "hmm, this is so fucking hot, baby." patrick whispers to you, his breathing heavy, sweat forming on his skin as he keeps fucking you. rocks digging into your back as patrick's weight falls onto your body, his thrusts getting sloppy. pulling out of you suddenly to push you onto your knees, cuts and grazes form on the skin as the sharp rocks pierce your fall. forcing his cock into your mouth as he holds the back of your head, fucking your face before shooting his load down your throat. "fuck- such a good girl."

pulling up his shorts quickly, and helping you onto your feet. kissing you deeply before walking back over to his group of friends. sitting down on one of the logs, pulling you onto his knee. you try to hide your furrowed brows from him, not used to this affectionate side of patrick. it's rare that he kisses you after you've had sex, let alone pulling you onto his knee in front of his friends. "god, what happened to your knees?" one of patrick's friends asks, handing you both another can of beer. patrick can't help the shit eating grin form on his face, looking down at your knees to see them covered in blood. "oh, i just fell over onto the rocks, no biggie." patrick kisses your cheek, opening his can of beer, whispering into your ear. "sorry baby, didn't mean to be so rough with you." you really can't hide your reaction this time, either patrick's had more to drink than you thought or he actually feels bad for making you bleed.

a couple more drinking games later, patrick walks the two of you back up to his parents' house. patrick didn't let you sit anywhere other than his lap the rest of the night. entering patrick's bedroom, he walks over to the small en-suite, wetting a towel and starts cleaning up your knees as you take off your sandy clothes. "why are you being so weird?" you finally ask him. he looks up at you from his position on the floor by your feet. "i'm not?" he returns. "you're looking after me, kissing me in front of your friends, that is very weird, actually." patrick chews the inside of his cheek, wiping the blood from your knees as you wince at the sting. "i don't know, am i not allowed to do those things?" he's not looking at you anymore, focusing his attention on cleaning you up. "yeah, you can, it's just confusing." he throws the towel into the laundry hamper, along with yours and his clothes. you slip into an oversized t-shirt as patrick gets into bed in just his boxers, turning off the light as you lay together in darkness. "i'm not the only one being weird, you kissed my friend in front of me, that's pretty confusing too." patrick mumbles, the two of you facing each other, the moon light barely allowing you to see each others faces. "whatever, don't worry about it." patrick adds on, turning around to go to sleep.

the next morning is as though nothing happened the night previous, you and patrick spending the day at the beach with his sister. playing tennis and swimming, having fun. patrick's parents shouting over after lunch that they've booked a table at the restaurant down the road for dinner. checking the time on your phone, you head back to get ready. you hear a slap against patrick's arm as you leave the beach. "how are you not in a relationship with her?" you overhear patrick's sister ask him as you head towards the house, smirking as you go. showering before doing your make up and getting dressed, slipping a white dress onto your body, checking yourself in the mirror as patrick walks into the bedroom. "you look beaut-" he stops his words, coughing as he continues. "hot, you look hot." he corrects himself, showering quickly and changing into a button up and jeans as you finish off curling your hair.

the five of you arrive at the restaurant, enjoying glasses of wine as patrick's parents' learn more about you. his hand on your thigh under the table as they ask about your major at college and how you spend your free time. before dessert you excuse yourself to the bathroom, hearing patrick tell his family that he's going for a smoke. closing the door to the sole bathroom of the restaurant, patrick's foot stopping it from closing. pushing himself into the room quickly. "what are you doing?" you ask, as he locks the door behind the two of you. "i need you." he mumbles, pushing you up against the wall as his lips attack yours. "patrick, we're literally at dinner with your parents, can you not wait until we get home?" you protest, his hands groping your chest as he suckles the skin on your exposed collarbones. "no, need you now." groaning as he moves your hand onto his crotch. "can't you see how much you're turning me on? you look so good tonight." you've never seen him so desperate, so needy for you. finally giving in, palming him through his jeans. spinning you around, pushing you up against the sink, grinding against your ass as he pulls your dress up. the fabric bunching around your waist, your panties pulled down your legs. you hear the sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor, his cock hitting your clit as he pushes your legs open. looking into your eyes through the mirror in front of you as he pushes himself into your hole. one hand on your hips as the other instinctively covers your mouth. staring at you in the reflection as he pounds himself into you, looking back at him through the mirror too. watching him come apart behind you as he loses himself in the moment.

"god, you feel so fucking good, baby." he groans into your neck, his cock filling you up as your hips repeatedly hit the sink, bruising your skin. patrick's calloused hands trapping every sound that leaves your lips, making you so conscience of the reality of the situation. holding in your cries and moans as he pumps in and out of you. "you're so fucking perfect, fuck- i love you." you can feel your heart sink at patrick's words, as he's barely even aware they left his mouth. the grip he has on your waist tightening, his fingernails digging into the skin. your chest rising and falling, breathing deeper, focusing on his dick filling you up, desperate to not acknowledge his words. he didn't mean it, he can't mean it, he's just caught up in the moment, you have to tell yourself. his hand slips from your mouth to grasp the other side of your waist, pulling you back into him as he keeps thrusting into you. no moans leave your mouth, just hot breaths, so fixated on patrick's confession. he pulls you back onto him once more as his load shoots up inside you, groans leaving his lips as he does.

patrick holds you there for a second, before pulling out of you, his come beginning to drip out from you. frozen on the spot until he starts pulling up his jeans. i love you. the words are spinning around your head. he kisses your cheek before doing up his belt. "i'll meet you back at the table." he winks, slipping out of the bathroom. cleaning yourself up as you pull your underwear back up your legs. checking yourself in the mirror before rejoining the table with patrick's family, mere seconds before he does. "i wish you'd stop smoking, pat." his mother says, frowning at her son. "i know, i know." he mumbles back, swigging from his glass. patrick and his sister go for a walk on the beach when you all get back to the house, leaving you alone in his room. changing into your pjs, packing away your things, ready for the drive back to college the next day. it's late by the time patrick slips into bed, assuming you're asleep next to him, he places a kiss on your forehead. "goodnight, sweet girl." so grateful for the darkness as your cheeks flush, being pulled onto patrick's chest as the two of you fall asleep.

waking up on opposite sides of the bed, the two of you get ready to leave his parents' beach house. thanking his parents for being so accommodating and hugging his sister goodbye. "i like her for you, patrick." you hear his mom tell him during their goodbyes, smiling and waving as you both enter his car, beginning the drive home. "they like you." he says, one hand on the wheel, the other squeezing your thigh. "that's nice. i'm glad." you mumble out the window, his eyes darting between you and the road. he rolls his eyes at your bluntness and carries on driving, pulling into a gas station after a little while on the road. filling up the tank while you use the bathroom, coming back out to see him leaning on the car, phone to his ear. he throws you his wallet, nodding towards the clerk, signalling you to go pay. "yeah, fucked her in the bathroom of the restaurant too." he laughs into his phone. "i know, my parents just sat at the table none the wiser." ignoring the words that weren't meant for your ears, you enter the store, grabbing a redbull and paying for the gas. walking back over to the parked car, patrick still laughing into his phone. "i know man, she's so fucking dirty, maybe i'd let you fuck her and you can really see what i mean."

holding back your tears as the whispers of i love you slip through your fingers, jumping into the car, slamming the door behind you. patrick turning around at the sound, rushing himself off the phone and into the drivers seat. pulling out of the gas station as he questions your actions. your knees are up to your chest, hugging your legs as he drives. "why did you just slam my door?" patrick asks, staring over to you. "i didn't mean to." you grumble, refusing to look over to him. "yeah right, you've been acting like a bitch since last night." he rolls his eyes, knuckles tight on the steering wheel. "whatever, no i haven't." aching for patrick to just ignore your reactions and drive you home. he sighs and pulls into a old dirt road, turning off the car and manoeuvring his body to face you. stating your name as he undoes your seatbelt. "will you just tell me what's going on?" you ignore him, pushing your emotions down. grabbing your legs, he brings your body round to face him. he's smiling softly at you, waiting on your words. when you still don't reply, he leans over and places his lips on yours. trying desperately to resist his kiss, but it's inevitable, you melt into him. anger and sadness and lust wash over you, your hands on the back of his head, kissing him like you'll never be able to again. his lips travel down you, his body contorting to position his head between your legs. dipping under your skirt, pulling your underwear to the side, humming as his face pushes into your cunt.

licking a line through your folds, swallowing the wetness on his tongue as he licks over your clit. your head leaning on the window, hands in his hair, moaning out his name. "my name sounds perfect when you moan it like that." patrick whispers against you, tonguing your clit, sloppy kisses placed there as his fingers push inside you. the radio playing is overshadowed by the mewls escaping your lips. his dark curls tickling your thighs as your fingers scratch at his scalp. your hips bucking onto his face, grinding against him as his tongue laps you up. his nose bumping over your clit as your thighs clench around him. the sunlight through the windows highlighting the wetness over his face, his blue eyes looking up at you, smirking into your cunt. his fingers curling up as your body jolts, orgasm washing over you, whimpering his name as he removes his tongue. slipping out his fingers, pushing them into your mouth. smiling at you as you suck the taste of yourself off his digits. smoothing your skirt back down as patrick repositions himself in the drivers seat. he laughs, wiping the wetness of you from his chin. the two of you smiling at each other, putting your seatbelts back on as patrick reverses up the dirt road, carrying on with the drive home.

the two of you laugh and talk the whole way home, arriving at your dorm as patrick grabs both of your bags out of his car. "can i stay the night? i can't be bothered walking to my dorm." he asks, his car already locked and keys in his pocket. "patrick, your dorm is like a five minute walk away." you laugh at him, grabbing your room keys from your purse. "please?" it's so rare that patrick's soft like this, you've seen it more this weekend, and you've learnt you can't say no to it. "sure." you smile, leading you both to your room. dropping your bags by your desk, patrick slumps onto your bed, pulling you on top of him. "this weekend was nice." he mumbles, nuzzling his head into your neck. "yeah, your family are nice." you say, avoiding the idea of acknowledging any of the new found emotions between the two of you. "my sisters cool, my parents are fine." he responds, keeping your body on top of his, arms wrapped around you. "it was cool having you there to distract me." you'd assume he means with sex, but his tone tells otherwise. luckily your phone starts ringing before you can confess to patrick how much you enjoyed the time with him. "hey, yeah, we just got back, me and patrick are just at my dorm." you talk into the phone to your best friend, sitting up on the edge of the bed. patrick kissing the back of your shoulders as you speak. smiling back at him as you listen to your friend.

"when?" you ask down the phone, patrick peering up at you, furrowed brows. "yeah sure, i'll ask patrick if he wants to come. see you later." putting the phone down, turning to face patrick, his head on your pillow. "ask me to come where?" he smiles at you, arm snaking around your hips. "a party, tonight. do you wanna go?" patrick grins widely, nodding his head at your words. patrick heads to your bathroom to shower, sitting at your desk to do your make up. wishing for some time alone to process your weekend at patrick's beach house, to really consider his words and actions, to force yourself out of this idea you've created that patrick could actually like you. but knowing you'd never send him away, it's like your addicted to him. unable to tell him no, wanting to savour every moment with him, not knowing when he's going to snap back to his old ways of leaving you naked on your bed as he darts home. enjoying these domestic moments you and patrick are sharing, feeling like his girlfriend, playing house before his attention is drawn elsewhere.

pulling your denim mini skirt over your hips, and readjusting your crop top, patrick re-enters your room. zipping up the fly of his jeans and pulling down his polo. "are you trying to kill me?" he asks, mouth slightly agape as he breaths out deeply. you laugh, applying another layer of lip gloss. "what do you mean?" you ask, leaning down to your mirror. "you look so fucking good." patrick states, spanking your ass as he sits to put his shoes on. laughing as you do up the small buckles on your heels, putting your phone into your purse and heading out the door. patrick laces his fingers through yours as you walk down the hall of your dorm, heading for the frat house hosting the party. looking down at your joined hands, then up to patrick. "what? your hands are soft." even patrick doesn't believe the reasoning he gave as you laugh at his words. "whatever, i can fuck you but not hold your hand? is that how this works?" patrick laughs as you shake your head, tightening your grip on his hand and heading off campus.

your best friend is waiting outside for you when you arrive, patrick dropping your hand as you walk up the pathway. "i'll meet up with you later okay? i'm still staying at yours so don't leave without me." patrick winks to you as he enters the house. hugging your friend as she sighs at patrick's words. she leads you into the back garden, handing you a white claw and kicking some frat boys off the garden furniture. you tell her everything about the weekend, her eyes rolling and brows furrowing as you explain the details. "he told you he loved you?!" she almost shouts, shushing her immediately. "keep your voice down!" you return, checking your surroundings for patrick, luckily he's nowhere to be seen. "it was during the bathroom hook up, i don't think he meant it." she breathes sharply, opening another can of white claw for each of you. "well, have you talked to him about it?" she asks, handing you the can. "no, oh my god, no!" shaking your head as you swig your drink. the two of you continue gossiping about your time away with patrick, laughing your way through more drinks. heading inside to the kitchen to get more alcohol and have a dance together, your best friend stops you in your tracks. "don't turn around." she holds you in place. "what? why?" you ask, forcing your way out of her grip and spinning on your heels.

in the corner of the kitchen stands patrick, his arms laced around a blonde, kissing her lips. her hands in his hair, bodies pushed together. your heartbeat fastens, eyes closing slowly as you take in the scene before you. shoulders dropping, watching patrick's hands caress her skin. "c'mon, let's go back outside, he's an asshole." your best friend says, barely hearing her over the ringing in your ears. she picks up a bottle of vodka from the kitchen counter and pulls you back outside. your eyes welling up, sitting back down on the plastic chair, sipping from the bottle she hands you. stealing a cigarette from the boy smoking next to you, she lights it and hands it to you. "fuck him, okay? he's fucking awful, you can do so much better." her words barely getting through to you, hands shaking as you bring the cigarette up to your lips. "but he told me he-" she knows what you're going to say, cutting you off before you can finish. "don't. you can't think about that right now." she tells you, leaning over, stroking your knee. a single tear falls from your eye, wiped away by your friend before it can reach your cheek. she sits with you quietly, letting you get yourself together. wiping away your tears and collecting your breathing. "do i look okay?" you ask her, stubbing out the cigarette. smiling at you like a cheshire cat, she stands up. "you look hot. c'mon, let's show that asshole what he's missing."

holding your hand, the two of you enter the group of people dancing, swaying together and letting your hips around to the music. letting some semi-hot frat boy pull your back to his chest, arm snaked around your hips as you grind onto him. your friend running to the bathroom as frat boy's lips press to your neck, eyes forward as you see patrick leaning against the wall. his eyes on you, between all the bodies blocking the path to each other. smirking, drinking his beer as you continue dancing, eyes never leaving his.

the night continues like this, patrick alone watching you from the sidelines as you dance the night away. the party starts to clear as patrick comes over to you and your best friend, both of you ready to call it a night. "c'mon, let me take you both home." he sighs, ready for you to fight him on the idea, but you don't, you can't. "fine." the three of you walk in silence, heels being carried in your hand. you and patrick walk your friend to her door, before carrying on down the hall to your dorm. the two of you enter your room, dropping your shoes and bag on the floor and sitting on your bed, back leaning against the wall. patrick moves your desk chair to sit opposite you. "what's going on? why were you dancing with that guy all night?" he questions. "what's it to you? you were kissing that girl anyway, surprised you didn't go home with her instead." your words hiss, the alcohol in your system bypassing any filters you would typically adhere to. patrick scoffs at you, leaning forward, elbows balanced on his knees. "i didn't know you saw that." he says, his words soft, almost guilty. you shrug your shoulders, bringing your legs up to your stomach, chin resting on your knees. "you told me you loved me." you whisper, as though saying it any louder would make tears fall from your eyes. "what? speak up." patrick asks, shuffling the chair closer to the bed. taking a deep breath in you repeat yourself. "you told me you loved me."

patrick's eyes flutter closed, lip between his teeth. "i didn't mean it." he lies to you, not that he'd ever admit it was a lie. tears slowly fall from your eyes, grasping your legs tighter. "but you-" you whisper again, before patrick cuts you off. "i didn't mean it, okay? we're not together, we fuck, we're fuck buddies, there's no strings." his words are like daggers, your eyes closed, tears slipping out through your lashes. "okay." is all you can muster, finally looking him in the eyes. his heart breaking at the sight of you. "can you please leave?" you ask him, your head falling down onto your knees. as if looking at his face would break your heart into smaller pieces. "yeah, okay." his words are heavy, refusing to look up as he stands and grabs his dufflebag. opening the door to leave, turning to look at you once more, but your eyes stay planted into your lap. sighing, he closes the door behind him.

falling onto your side, the tears falling faster from your eyes now, hugging the pillow that still smells like him. so angry that you let yourself fall for his charm, disgusted at yourself that you really believed he could love you, and just so sad knowing all you wanted to do was say it back. hating yourself for letting it drag on so long. falling asleep in your mini skirt and crop top, eyes puffy as you know that'll be the last time you see patrick zweig.

[b0r3dtod3ath]

Hello hi!

Can you do a challengers fic?

Art x reader, where he and reader had a flirty relationship but he started to experiment with tashi and patrick and she was like "well, it happens" but the trio didnt work out so he tried to recandle that dinamic between him and reader but she lost all the atraction to him.

(lots of groveling)

Thank you!

Thank you for the request!

Warnings: Mention of an injury, curse words. 

You and Art have been friends since middle school and since then he was always by your side. Your shared interest in tennis and joint decision about applying to Stanford resulted in you two being inseparable best friends. Well, maybe not really. Your relationship was quite hard to describe. People constantly mistook you for a couple but in reality you were just really close. Sure, there were a lot of flirtatious moments, some may even say romantic, but you never thought about it too deeply, thinking that it’s just the way Art is. 

Each morning he knocked vigorously on your dorm room door. “You need to wake up! We need to go.” The sight that he sees when you open the door always makes his heart skip a beat. Messy hair and a toothbrush in your mouth give him a glimpse of what it would be like if he was living with you. “Good morning!” He gives you a beautiful smile as he hands you a coffee in your favorite thermos. He insists on doing it because “it saves time in the morning as he’s up anyways”. Oh and also when you finish he takes the cup back to clean it so he doesn't bother you in the morning. His friend Patrick has always made fun of him for those small gestures but he recently got a girlfriend so he’s busy. Actually, you have heard of Tashi. She attends your school and you were supposed to play against her in a local tournament. You have heard that she’s really good but people also always point out your skills.

You head to the canteen, sipping your coffee as Art tells you about Patrick’s new girlfriend. It’s not like you are jealous but hearing your male best friend ramble about another girl is weird. You keep quiet, after all there was nothing romantic between you two. You eat your breakfast without saying much which goes unnoticed to your friend. He stops eating, looking at your face for a moment, trying to figure out what’s going on in your mind “I saw they had watermelon in the fruit section. I can bring it for you if you want. Did something happen? You know you can always talk to me. I will always be there for you.” The gentle tone in his voice almost feels like he is talking to a lost child, scared to make you withdraw. “No, no. It’s fine. I’m just a bit less confident about the next match. You know, after what happened a few days ago, my leg still sometimes cramps up a bit.” you halfy make up a lie. You were stressed about the match but it had nothing to do with your calf. “You should have told me earlier. I will massage it before we train today. You are going to do amazing".

He didn’t listen to your begging not to knead your muscle so you ended up with him rubbing it firmly enough to “help you” but gently enough not to hurt you. As you trained he could sense your frustration. Sure, it made you more confident on the court as you transferred your anger into each fore and backhand. Then suddenly you stop. Your opponent gives you a confused look as you out of the blue ignore the ball. “I don’t feel well. I’m gonna call it quits. I have a test tomorrow anyway that I should study for. I can’t be hitting a ball with a racket my whole life.” you look at him, his expression as shocked as a moment ago. “See you in the evening?” You two usually had some evening tennis sessions or just went for some walks as there were not many people around that time and you could freely chat about anything. “Well. I can’t actually make it today. I’m really sorry. Patrick invited me for some drinks. He wants me to meet Tashi”. His eyes looked like they belonged to a puppy. “Oh, yea. I mean. That’s fine. See you tomorrow then.” you say without giving him the usual light hug as a goodbye.

The following morning Art didn’t knock on your door. You assumed he must have been tired from the day before but it still felt unusual. You decided to push it aside and focus on yourself and your preparations to play against Tashi. The match started at 2 pm so you still had some time to get ready. You followed your usual routine with only one exception - your regular companion. 

The tennis court simmered under the midday sun, a gentle breeze whispered through the air, carrying a promise of an intense match. It was one of the most anticipated matches of the season on the Stanford campus. It was the end of a debate of who is the best tennis player among students but most importantly it was evidence of passion for sports and competition. You looked at Tashi coming on the court, getting a bigger applause than you did. You didn’t let it bother you, it didn’t matter who was the fan favorite, it mattered who was better. You were first to serve. Silence established itself on the court, a neon yellow ball bounced a few times between your hand and the ground. You looked deeply into your opponent’s eyes. It wasn’t a game of tennis, it was a battle for dominance. 

A thunderous serve from you, the ball sliced through the air with precision. Tashi returned it with equal force, the ball skimming just inches above the net. Back and forth you played, each stroke a testament to your skill and determination. The crowd watched in silence, fully immersed in the spectacle unfolding before them. As the match wore on, the intensity only seemed to grow. Tashi unleashed a powerful forehand, sending the ball to the other side of the net. But you were quick to react, sprinting across the court with lightning speed to return it with a perfectly executed backhand. The crowd erupted into applause, recognizing the sheer athleticism on display.  The game continued in this fashion, each player refusing to give an inch. Your muscles burned like they were on fire as you chased down every shot, your mind focused solely on victory. On letting her know who Art belongs to. 

Then, in a heartbeat, disaster struck. As Tashi ran to return a particularly fierce shot, her foot slipped. Time seemed to slow as she stumbled forward, her knee buckling beneath her weight. With a sharp cry of pain, she collapsed to the ground, clutching her injured leg. She started crying like a hurt animal, unable to think what people thought of her. You stood there in pure shock, unsure of what to do. In the corner of your eye you saw Art running up to her and trying to calm her down. 

You felt really bad for her. Not liking her didn’t mean you were happy for her injury. After asking the medical team about her, you got to know that she’s waiting for an ambulance. When you found her, your heart immediately dropped at the sight of Art holding her hand. “I just wanted to say, I’m so sorry it happened, I-” you started to apologize, “Out! Out! Out!” she screamed at you “But-” you tried to say something but Art stood up “Get the fuck out!”. He had never raised his voice towards you. He was always your gentle, soft, good boy. You silently walked away as hot tears rolled on your cheeks. The echo of your sobs filled your room for the whole night. 

For the next few weeks you didn’t see Art. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to see him, you did actually, but he was always accompanied by Tashi or Patrick. It did make you feel a bit lonely but you focused on training and improving. You actually started to do really well and moved up the rank. Despite an opportunity to get an apartment you stayed at Stanford. You told everyone that you would feel lonely living alone, but the truth was you just didn’t want to leave Art. He would still sometimes catch your glimpse across the canteen or the training hall but no words were exchanged. 

He found you one evening, your silhouette illuminated by the artificial glow of the light. You were alone, your movements fluid yet tense as you practiced your strokes with precision. Taking a deep breath, Art approached you cautiously, unsure of how you would react to his presence. "Hey" he said softly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. You turned to face him, your expression stone cold. You said nothing. A hint of bitterness in your eyes. "I-I just wanted to see how you were doing," he said, his words stumbling over each other in his nervousness. "What do you want?" you snapped, you tone sharp and cutting. Determination glinting in his eyes. "I saw you playing alone, and I thought... maybe you could use a partner," he offered hesitantly. You scoffed, your grip on the racquet tightening as you glared at him. "And why would I want to play with you?". Art took a step closer, his gaze unwavering as he met your overwhelming stare. "Because I miss playing with you, I miss you" he admitted softly. "And because I'm sorry. Truly sorry for what I did." You hesitated for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you considered his offer. “Don’t you have to take care of your little Tashi’s leg?” you said under your nose. "Fine. But don't expect too much" you warned.  

As you began to play, your movements were sharp and precise, your shots landing with deadly accuracy. Art did his best to keep up, but he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. You had always been better than him but he could sense something else. After all, tennis was the most intimate out of all sports. Suddenly, you unleashed a powerful forehand that sailed towards Art with an alarming speed. Instinctively, he raised his racket to block the shot, but it ricocheted off the strings with a resounding thud, leaving him staggering backwards. "Are you trying to kill me or something?" he exclaimed, his heart racing as he moved closer to the net. You turned around -  a little habit you gained, you never looked at your opponent after scoring a point. "Maybe," you replied nonchalantly, your tone betraying a hint of amusement. Art chuckled nervously, rubbing his sore arm where the ball had made contact, as he got closer and closer to you. "Well, you can kill me if you want," he offered, making you chuckle. He reached to touch your hand, his expression pleading, as you turned. "Please. I know I messed up, but I can't stand not having you in my life. I... I have feelings for you. And I need you to know that. I don’t see you as just a friend." You felt your heart skip a beat at his confession, your breath catching in your throat. You had suspected as much, but hearing him say the words out loud sent a jolt of electricity through your veins. "I... I don't know, Art” you responded, torn between the anger still simmering inside you and the warmth of his words. "You ditched me for her. "Art nodded, his eyes brimming with regret. "I know. And I'm so sorry. I was weak and I thought you would never look at me the same way I look at you. I'll do anything to make it right, I swear." he got on his knees, both hands holding yours. “I will never leave your side, I will show you how much I love you and I will buy you this diamond bracelet you always wanted.” You chuckled “Art, get up. I don’t need a bracelet from you. I will give this a chance.” A smile broke across Art’s face, relief flooding his features as he reached out to wrap you in a tight embrace. "Thank you, I promise, you won't regret this." he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and eyes wet with tears. You returned the hug. The two of you swayed for a moment before you broke the silence with your dead serious tone. “Never raise your voice at me again, understand?” He looked deeply in your eyes. “Understood, maam. I’m incredibly sorry”.

April 29, 2024

[artdcnaldson]

In part 2 you mentioned Patrick x reader having makeup sex after they got into stupid argument…. Can we get a flashback to one of those moments🤭🤭 domestic Patrick starting an argument with reader and reader calling him out about it but they end up making up in a cute way. Like Patrick making it up in a corny but cute way??? Just a suggestion, part 2 was amazing btw!

Rating: T

Warnings: just a minor argument, language ofc

A/N: thank youuuu!!! No smut in this little blurb, just a snapshot of domestic Patrick x reader in the changeover au 🫶🫶🫶

Also working on art x reader first time and also Patrick x reader first I love you blurbs for the changeover au :) so those will be coming sooooon

It was easy to let the stupid arguments devolve. It started with a facial expression when you brought up your college roommate’s wedding. An eye roll, an I-don’t-want-to-fucking-deal-with-that. And that became your, “why do you treat my friends and my life as less important?”

“I can’t fucking believe you got that out of me wanting to ditch Katie’s wedding to her dickhead loser fiancé.” Patrick’s words came out so flippant that it infuriated you further. “You don’t even talk to her outside of Facebook comments.”

“I’m sorry, Patrick. I didn’t realize that you’d be so fucking opposed to free food and booze considering you live off of it.”

Patrick set his jaw, glaring at you. It was a low blow, one you knew would sting. “I’m opposed to wasting my time flying out to bum fuck Iowa to because Katie— who has always hated me, by the way— is marrying some dickhead who’s a shill for a corrupt asshole in congress.”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe she would like you, Patrick, if you ever put in an ounce of effort with anyone besides me.”

“Right, because I need to be friends with the kind of people whose proposal was a flash mob.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Right, because you’re just too cool for stuff like that.”

It was so fucking like him— making fun of the lame proposals your friends got, or their baby names, or their engagement shoots. Sometimes they were lame— flash mobs were fucking stupid— but sometimes they were sweet, and romantic, and there was Patrick acting like he’d rather blow his brains out than ever publicly admit he cared.

“Yeah, I am.” He said back.

You rolled your eyes and stood. “Whatever, Patrick. I’ll RSVP for one, again, and you can bum around my apartment alone.”

You had slammed the bedroom door before he could respond, which left him alone and seething in the living room.

You heard the front door open, then slam shut, signaling that Patrick was going out for a smoke, or a walk, or something.

You opened Facebook and scrolled through your feed. Katie’s engagement photos, a coworker’s new baby, a college friend’s bachelorette weekend. And there you were, fighting so your boyfriend would finally be your plus one to something.

It wasn’t always his fault— he had tournaments, and commitments. But a lot of the time, it was an active dismissal of things you found important— engagement parties, friends visiting the city, the increasingly common baby shower.

You didn’t blame him. Adult stuff sucked, and it was almost always boring and agonizingly slow. But you just wanted him to show up with you for things that were big.

It would be stupid to break up over Katie, who you genuinely weren’t even that close to. She’d been a decent friend Freshman year, you supposed, but that was the extent of it. The invitation to the wedding was probably a formality.

All you wanted was an excuse to show off your super hot, super cool boyfriend. To get tipsy over free booze, then leave the wedding early to fuck in the shitty Best Western hotel room that wedding guests would get a discount rate on.

A few hours later, the front door opened, and you sat up against the headboard, waiting eagerly to see if he’d be the first to break, or if you would.

You heard four gentle knocks against the door, saw Patrick’s sneakers beneath the door. “You can come in,” you said softly.

Patrick slipped into the room and joined you on the bed. He kept space between you, just in case you were still mad, but met your gaze with the sad eyes of a kicked puppy.

“I bought a suit,” was all he said. “And I tried to buy you a huge bouquet of flowers since I was a dickhead, but my card declined since I just bought the suit, so…”

His hand was resting on the empty expanse of mismatched bedsheets between you. You moved your hand into his, tangling your fingers together. “You bought a suit, huh?”

He nodded, squeezing your hand lightly. “I’ll stop being a dick about Katie’s wedding.” He paused, turning away from your gaze. “I think… I’m away so much that when I’m home, I just want it to be me and you.”

You leaned forward and kissed his nose. “I just want to show you off to everyone I know,” you said lightly. Your forehead stayed pressed to his, and you relished in the closeness. “I don’t give a fuck about Katie or her ugly loser fiancé’s stupid wedding.”

Patrick grinned. “Oh? So you just want a hot, professional athlete to be your arm candy, huh?”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re always cheapening the moment.” You leaned forward kissing him sweetly, which always seemed to devolve into a hungry mess of tongues and spit when Patrick was involved.

“Wait—“ you said suddenly, right as Patrick began peeling off your top. “You said your fucking card declined? You drained your bank account for this stupid wedding?”

He paused, his hands warm on your bare skin. “Uh… it felt like a grand gesture kind of moment.” You leaned in and kissed him, pulling your shirt off the rest of the way.

Not smutty but I neeeeeeeded to write some domestic Patrick x reader 😁🫶 my pookies my babies my loves

[chlmtsdoll]

omg omg yes patrickkk!! maybe something like he says something in regards to her relationship with art and tashi and how one day she’ll be alone and they’ll leave her after she retires and she gets all sad and just lots of angst ???

YES OMG this is just what I needed !! Even though Patrick is a real bully in this one I had a lot of fun with thisss I love writing intense emotions 🤍

NOTHING WITHOUT YOU

౨ৎ Pairing: ballerina!reader x Patrick Zweig/Art Donaldson/Tashi Duncan

౨ৎ Summary: Art and Tashi leave you home alone with Patrick, deciding to keep your distance from his dislike of you only goes but so far when you get caught in his wrath

౨ৎ Word count: 3.8k

౨ৎ Warnings: no use of y/n, sensitive!reader, sugar baby! reader, lots of angst, some fluff at the end, hurt/comfort, light verbal abuse, mentions of bullying, age gap (reader early 20’s), older!Patrick/Art/Tashi, protective Art & Tashi

While Art and Tashi had been out for the night seeing their daughter Lily in a local tennis tournament they were having for all the kindergarteners qualified in town, you’d stayed back at the penthouse the couple had been renting out for the time being. Although, you hadn’t been staying back alone — you were accompanied by the maid that waited on you all day to day and Patrick, who well, was brought along on this months tennis cycle.

It was mandatory you weren’t home alone during this time though. Tashi had been extremely potent on the matter, a strict rule about you being by yourself or out of her or Art’s view with Patrick. She made a big thing about how she didn’t trust the vindictive man that Patrick was around you. Even though it was known to you he was trusted within the couples sanctuary and personal life — they also were sure to remember he was Patrick at the end of the day.

With his deadly looks and slightly verbal abuse towards you since you met, down to his canine like draw that led him towards using his cruelty as shield for his compulsive desire that made him want to tear you down piece by piece. You didn’t know if it was because he still just couldn’t quite figure you out, or your purpose with the Donaldsons — why they were so intrigued with you or the fact that he wanted them, you, to himself.

It wasn’t overlooked by anyone that Patrick couldn’t stand the light that you were in Art and Tashi’s lives. With your innocent stares, fawning eyes at them like they were your world and stars, or how you always had a sense of obliviousness to your encounter. Always walking around the place in the tiniest shorts or pastel leg warmers trimmed with things he thought was all too ridiculous for you to be really real. At least not enough for him to take you seriously. Like ruffles or dainty flower trimmings of some sort that made his senses go untamed. You saw it whenever you’d walk by his robust presence as he’d sit and have a beer with Art. His eyes following your waist and perfect stature to do virtuous things like help the maid out with the laundry, kind smiles and sweet “please” and “thank you’s” as you folded attire. Or when you’d be quiet as a mouse in your the side of whatever massive place Art and Tashi would rent when you’d join them on tour during your off seasons, to pick up a thousand piece puzzle. Clench your fists in the cutest of ways when you got stuck in a loop of no hope to finish. But you always finished. You were the perfect sweet little thing.

He found you to be nauseating.

Your sweetness like a straight poison, always just too polite and never having outburst or a temper rise. To Patrick it seemed too good to be true, and you were. Just too good. Just to sweet for him. He wanted to destroy you.

Corrupt you, chew you up and spit you out.

And you just hadn’t known how to handle it or approach him at all, so not even knowing the appeal that Tashi and Art saw in him, you mostly ever just stayed away.

With the man being over an entire foot taller than you, you had no problem in keeping your distance. Any time you two were caught walking down a tight hall, his towering presence over you, he’d knock right into your miniature body. On purpose. Making you fly the other way, or when you’d basically spent most of the summer reading, he’d take your books by the spine and toss them across the room. If you were watching tv he’d snatch the remote from the coffee table and turn on a tennis match.

He was a grown man and a full blown bully.

You’d only put up with it because you knew it was in response of him not getting the same savory and tender treatment that Art and Tashi gave you. You were taking it all. Stealing their affections and hogging it from him with a naive (annoying to him) little smile on your face.

So you’d take a couple pushes and teasing if that meant you could hurt him in his weakest ally.

And you respected Tashi’s wishes of not sharing space with him for caution of yourself, but when the maid had to run out suddenly for an abrupt emergency — that plan had went downhill quickly.

You were left with Patrick Zweig all by yourself.

“Okay, I hope everything’s alright… see you next week.” you’d said your goodbyes to the maid as she hurried out of the place and you’d shut the grand doors behind her gently, turning on your heels to approach the kitchen area as your cold feet lightly toed against the marble floors. You decided not to bother making too much noise now that it had been just you and him. If you could just get through the next hour without having to get into an interaction with him and upset Tashi, it would be fine.

Nearing the close kitchen, you could hear switches of the second stove being turned and messed with. The sound irritating and getting louder as you stepped closer. Gas. Not the electric one that had also been provided right next to it.

When you walked in, of course Patrick had been hunched right over the stove, what looked like trying to light his cigarette in the most odd way that made you raise a brow on sight — until you remembered the rant he went on to Art and Tashi about leaving his one and only lighter back at one of the other rental homes in La. His fingers taking a quick break to scratch at his only slightly shaven dark colored beard to neck in modest confusion as he toyed with the fire. Just a couple seconds from catching onto his jeans.

You viewed the scene for a quick moment before letting out a piqued small sigh as you’d let him deal with that at his own funeral. You went to grab a soda from the fridge a few steps away from him.

Going through the loaded refrigerator stacked with only the highest healthy planned meals and smoothies, accompanied with fruits and cut up vegetables, you reached in the drawer to get a Diet Coke. The sound of Patrick just a couple moments away from burning the entire penthouse down made you scrunch your face up in annoyance before shutting the fridge by the handle.

“Could you not do that ? It’s really dangerous.”

His expression was hardened, Patrick looked up from his amateurish work to meet your glance when the sound of your soft chary voice had reached his ears.

“it’s fine, pipsqueak. I know what I’m doing.”

You rolled your eyes at the name he’d call you, and raised the sharp edge of the soda can to your lips as you watched the top of his cigarette beam a bright crimson at last. The taller fit man matched your gesture as he brought the stick to his mouth. Pink, and not reaching for a care in the world he let the smoke he breathed in travel out and above. You watched with hesitation to bring up the fact that the smoke detectors had been near flashing a signaling light just above him, you eyed the small but alarming circle before your eyes drifted back down to Patrick’s dark curls framing his face.

“You really shouldn’t smoke in here,” you crossed an arm over your cropped pj top that had displayed your belly button by a few inches. Patrick lifted his chin and peered down at your small figure to inspected you from your socked feet to your head through lidded eyes.

“Relax. Mommy and daddy aren’t here right now,” he scuffed in slight displeasure of your voice already. “Don’t you ever do anything apart from what you’re told ?.. ever ?”

“I’m just trying to be safe.” You had to crane your neck to look up at him, so it was much easier to just stare down at your feet against the floor before shifting your weight to the other. Patrick turned from your exposure already tired of you sticking your nose in his business anyways. He had looked at you like some stray kitten walking around the place unwanted and unfamiliar to his prey attitude.

“Well go be safe somewhere else.” His voice gravely before he started to chuckle in thought, you frowned. “Isn’t it pass your bed time anyways ? Oh, wait.. I forgot, you just have to stay up so you can see Art and Tashi walk through the door right ? Like some needy puppy or something ?”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you swallowed to coat your now dry throat in slight offense as you dropped your arms to your sides.

“Art always makes sure to make me tea and kiss me good night.” You defended even though your tone remained faint and Patrick only grinned in ignorance at your comment wanting to laugh a bit more at your seriousness for a joke.

“God. I almost feel bad for you, y’know.. you’re so dependent on them. They’re not your fucking parents.”

Patrick had pointed his cigarette to your presence and you shook your head at his words.

“I never said they were.”

“You don’t have to. You’re addicted to them.”

“And so are you.” You raised your voice a bit and Patrick moved to the counter in front of you with frustration. “You were just as lost as me before they acknowledged you again. Now all you do is pick me apart for it but you’re the same… and you’re just too jealous to admit it.”

Patrick had looked away as he begun to laugh with a smile that hid his insecurities deep down. Only to meet your eyes again, the most disquiet look of enmity in his stare that made you start to back up in regret. Right into the cabinets behind you without even realizing it.

“Jealous ? Give me a fucking break. You’re a pet.” He verbally spit at you and your lip quivered a bit at the name, he once again, had the upper hand on you. Because when he started to move closer, starting to tower over your fragile space you once called personal — you should of just gotten out of it then. But something stopped you from getting away.

You were frightened, his words too big, too rough for you to escape.

“And you know what’s sad ? Your brain isn’t even developed enough to know the difference. You’re gonna keep this up with them. Get so tightly wrapped up in this.. whatever the fuck- - and get your feelings all fucked up and confused thinking it’s love. That they really could love you, till one day you’ll be stuck on the side of the road with your life fully flipped over when they get sick of your little shit get up.”

His words were harsh as he snapped at you. Your body was frozen there as he backed you up into the deep of the kitchen, and even though you knew you could leave. Just walk away. Your limbs slowly started the tremble as well, nose flaring and redden as you fought back tears. You couldn’t let him win. But what if he was right ?

You knew he hated you enough to say anything to make you cry, but what if it had all been true.

Something inside of you broke.

“That’s not true,” your voice shaken as you shook your head to fight the anxieties,

“Yes. And you know it. They’ll leave you one day. Are you really that stupid, you can’t see it ? You think this will last ?”

You didn’t answer, and Patrick grinned.

“You’re a fucking tool, that they can play with and you let them. A toy.”

You tried to muster up the power to block him out. You were failing. Your heart pounded and you gripped the counter behind you in correlation to your discomposure as you begun to sniff.

“The way Tashi hardly looks in your eyes unless you’ve won every god damn tournament, they way your definitely as much to Art as a doll he can fuck to keep himself in the game. Face it. You’re no better than a hooker on the go.”

“No.” You started to cry, tears falling from your ducks before your brain could alarm your hands to wipe them, you uttered the word out as you faced Patrick and he still got in your face even closer. The man scowled at you as he pushed his words into you, cramming them in your head. He cornered your petite body in the side on the kitchen and you could feel the overwhelming hurt take over your body.

“Yes. You mean nothing to them.”

“No !” You screamed at him as tears streamed down your face as you tried to fight off his presence, not knowing what to do or where to go so you stood there and cried. And it felt pathetic. You let him win. He was bigger and smarter and knew better. You don’t know why you tried to stand against him, lord knows you were never going to win and now you were left the fool, crying like a child while being dog leg by Patrick Zweig.

You suddenly heard heavy foot steps and the sound of heels clashing against the floor as Art and Tashi rushed into the room at the sound of your scream.

“What the fuck is going on here ?” Tashi’s voice over powered the entire room as she dropped her bag and called out the maids name in hurried frustration of the scene she observed. “Where the fuck is she ?” Tashi huffed before telling her mom to take Lily to her room quickly, then storming back in to stop whatever they walked into.

“Baby ? Hey hey hey,” Art made his way over to your quivering body, face taken over by utter concern as he immediately took your shoulders into his hands and pushed Patrick roughly to the other side of the counter.

“The fuck are you doing, man ??” He cursed out at the other man. If you weren’t overwhelmed with emotion, you could say this was the first time you’d ever seen Art so terribly angry. But all you could do was turn away and sob into Art’s chest as he held you close, eyebrows furrowed deep and a fire in his eyes as he stared at Patrick like he could snap.

“I got this. Take her upstairs,” Tashi gestured to you and Art as she pushed between the two of them. It was in one swift motion that she tugged on Patrick’s ear by the lobe, forcing him to follow her out of the kitchen. He winced through his trailing behind her.

“Ow! What the- -”

Tashi jabbed him in the arm, and then again, then again till he he jumped back from her furious state.

“Are you a fucking idiot !? What is the matter with you ?!” Tashi roared at him with straight daggers in her eyes. “What did you say to her ??? I told you to stay the fuck apart !”

“Your brat came bothering me!” He grabbed Tashi’s wrists to yank her away from enforcing anymore pain on to him, but she just snatched her arm away mercilessly again. “She’s a little shit, so I told her the truth. You and Art just baby the fuck out of her for gratification. You don’t give a fuck about her, admit it. All of you are delusional !”

He argued and Tashi closed her eyes for a brief second with a deep breath before she got in his face.

“You’re a fucking piece of shit.”

Patrick rolled his eyes, but Tashi caught him off guard when she shoved him straight in his chest again.

“Who the fuck gave you the right, Patrick ? Are you blind ?? No one gives a shit about you ! It’s you !” Tashi had grunted with eruption, only getting madder because he had madden her so much already. She and Patrick both knew her words had only been half true, but it didn’t matter right now when he was playing so dirty and spitting words carelessly after the other. He truly did have no right.

Patrick stood there and looked at her, there was no use of more words when she had gotten like this and he knew she knew exactly how he felt about it all.

“Just- just- dispose of yourself somewhere. Go.”

“Where do you want me to go ?”

“I don’t give a fuck. Away from here, away from me. You’re an asshole.”

Tashi’s eye slightly twitched while she looked at the man in repulsion, and he was stone cold as he pushed passed her, knocking her shoulder as he slouched by, Tashi folded her arms.

“You will apologize to her first thing in the morning or you can pack your shit.” The irked woman gave a forced sympathetic smile before glaring at him and walking away, leaving Patrick there groaning in vexation as he shook his head.

Upstairs, you had been curled up in Arts lap. He held you in his arms as your soft cries and salty tears melted into the cotton of his shirt, he rubbed small circles against your back while he sat there in thought.

Art was distraught by the fact that whatever Patrick had said could of disturbed you so bad he had to find you crying your eyes out and shaking in the kitchen. He tried his best not to let you see the way his fists clenched and unclenched with his anger fueled throughout him, since he didn’t want to scare you or make you worry any more.

No matter what, Patrick always found a way to be a fucking dick. He just couldn’t understand the motive around why he’d want to make his perfect girl hurt or scream like that.

He felt your breathing start to steady as you sniffed and your face had been all hot and flushed, your heart had gone back to a normal pace, but you still were quite shaken as you curled farther into Arts embrace with a low wine.

“Baby, look at me. Can you sit up for me ?” Art’s voice chimes in sweetly through the sunken air of the room. He lowers his head to stare down at your state in his arms and you moved so you were sitting on your knees on the bed, you sniffed and Arts thumbs went to caress your face as he wiped a few tears from your damp cheeks. His icy blues met your wide teary eyes that were filled with sadness and your lip had been just swollen a touch.

“What happened ? Can you tell me what he said to you ?”

Your eyes travel down to his hands brushing your face and you held one of his wrists, your expression was laced with sorrow. You whimpered a little just from the memory, which Art noticed with a sigh. You knew it would feel better if you just got it out. Emptied the words from your chest because your kind and caring Art always took care of the worries for you, but it had been different this time. Because it involved the ideal of him leaving you.

You took your time to think as you sat on that bed with him. And Art watched your face soften under his comforting touch.

“He said I was nothing. That you’d leave, Tashi would leave. And i’d be stuck heartbroken with nothing because I don’t mean anything to either of you.” Your voice was sparse and trembled as you spoke to get the words out, Art already started to tense up as he listened. “Maybe- I- I am too dependent on you both, and I shouldn’t be because I’m so young and you guys don’t need another child on your arm to have to look after. I don’t want to be stupid.. I’m so- stupid.”

You wanted to sob again, your voice cracking and your hands going to cover up your face, the corner of Art’s lips twitched as he frowned, “no, no, no, sweetheart. Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

Art had brought you back into him as you cried softly under his chin, your arms wrapped around his torso and the older man sighed deeply. “Nothing is ever determined, and life takes us all in ways we just can’t predict, but I want you to know that whatever you choose to do, or want along the line — Tashi and I will always be here to support you. We’re not going any where and we would never leave you. Fuck that. You’re so loved, by us. You’re always welcomed in our lives no matter the circumstances that may come upon.”

You wiped your nose briefly before leaning up to look at the blonde once more, eyes searched his face for any uncertainty but all you found was honest and pure devotion.

“Really ?” You budged tenderly and Art brushed a few stuck locks that were caught in your wet face. He nodded with a light simper.

“Really, Princess. We adore you’re company and the person you are dearly. And you don’t have to think about all those bad thoughts right now, okay ?” He kissed the top of your head to your cheek while you hugged him like a lifeline. A feeling of warmth spread within you from there, worries calm and you felt collected of your emotions once again. You just wanted to be reassured. Words cut you and got to you deep. But right now being with Art, it was like the perfect bandage to your wound that was although bittersweet in theory, a very delicate heart.

You heard footsteps nearing as Tashi walked into the bedroom. She was looking exhausted. Absolutely tired from the inside out as she sat on the bed next to the two of you, your eyes met hers and you immediately curled up and laid your head in her welcoming lap when she settled. Soft hands against her leg where you felt the fabric of her dress pant brush your cheek, and a sullen sigh escaped the woman’s lips.

“He won’t bother you again, baby.” Her sultry like voice filled your senses and your chest collapsed with ease once again. Her fingers went to journey through your loose locks gently as the vigilant but warm woman relaxed you now physically too.

“I’ll go make you a hot chocolate, and Tashi will run you a warm bath. We’re gonna make you feel better, love.” Art left you with tender adoration as he promised to you, and reached to leave a delicate stroke on your thigh with a fond smile before he stood from the bed. Tashi nodded him off as she held you there for a moment more, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple.

[omegalomania]

so im sure everyones fully well aware of the magic 8 ball site fob is using to promote a contest to win some tickets to see them in nashville. the little 8ball widget theyve got in browser is also modeled on the physical 8ball that they had in the vip merch packages for tourdust's first leg, which is cool! but of particular note is the way that, to fill out the contest form, you have to pick your favorite fall out boy songs. and the sheer breadth of what is allowed is...interesting? it's not cohesive by any means, but it is really wild the selection of songs they have here because not all of them are fob songs. in fact, quite a few of them aren't.

i went directly to the source code and got a full list of all possible songs that you could input (which you can check for yourself by right-clicking and selecting "view source"). i'm going to list them here for archival purposes, with a few notes/explanations cause some of these are WILD.

there are 187 songs total listed.

bolded songs indicate songs that are demos or never received an official release

italicized songs are songs by other bands

underlined songs indicate songs that are covers

songs with an asterisk beside them (*) indicate they are from patrick's solo catalogue. two asterisks (**) are for pete's.

additional commentary by me will be [in brackets]

20 Dollar Nose Bleed 27 7 Minutes in Heaven (Atavan Halen) 7-9 Legendary A Little Less Sixteen Candles, a Little More "Touch Me" A Nice Myth [one of the earliest fall out boy demos, found on their first ep, and only the casette version at that] Allie* Alone Together Alpha Dog America's Suitehearts American Beauty/American Psycho (song) American Made Art of Keeping Up Disappearances As Long as I Know I'm Getting Paid* Austin, We Have a Problem Baby Annihilation Bad Side of 25* Bang the Doldrums Beat It Big Hype* Bishops Knife Trick Bob Dylan Bounce [this is a song that came out on then-Decaydance labelmates The Cab's debut record, Whisper War, which patrick produced. he has writing credit and also is credited with background vocals (and also shows up in the music video)] Caffeine Cold Calm Before the Storm Centuries Champagne for My Real Friends, Real Pain for My Sham Friends Champion Check Your Phone** Chicago is So Two Years Ago Church City in a Garden Coast (It's Gonna Get Better)* Coffee's for Closers Cryptozoology* Cute Girls* Cyanide** [this is a nothing,nowhere song that pete did some spoken word parts and backing vocals on] Dance Miserable* Dance, Dance Dead on Arrival Dear Future Self (Hands Up) Death Valley Deep Blue Love* [song patrick did for the indie short film "spell"] Demigods Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes Don't You Know Who I Think I Am? Electric Touch [the (in?)famous taylor swift song patrick featured on] Eternal Summer Everybody Wants Somebody* Explode* Fake Out Fame Less than Infamy Favorite Record Fellowship of the Nerd [this is an alternate title for world's not waiting, as far as i can tell] Flu Game Flu Game [yes flu game is listed twice for some reason] Footprints in the Snow [demo from the Llamania ep] Fourth of July From Now on We Are Enemies G.I.N.A.S.F.S. Get Busy Living or Get Busy Dying (Do Your Part to Save the Scene and Stop Going to Shows) Ghostbusters (I'm Not Afraid) Golden Grand Theft Autumn/Where Is Your Boy Greed* Grenade Jumper Grow Up and Be Kids [this song is on The Cab's sophomore album Symphony Soldier, which release after they left decaydance. nonetheless, pete does have some writing credits on it. give it a listen and you'll hear for yourself in the first 10 seconds or so] Growing Up Hand Crushed by a Mallet [this is a remix of the 100gecs song of the same name; patrick did some vocals for it] Hand of God Have I Got a Gift for You* [song patrick did for the horror movie black friday] Headfirst Slide into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet Heartbreak Feels So Good Heaven's Gate Heaven, Iowa Hold Me Like a Grudge Hold Me Tight or Don't Homesick at Space Camp Honorable Mention Hot to the Touch, Cold on the Inside Hum Hallelujah I Am My Own Muse I Don't Care

I Got Nothing, But You Got Something [this is the one that really perplexes me. there's no evidence of this song actually existing, other than an unverified genius post and an article on a single fandom wiki. it is inexplicably listed here despite its very existence being questionable at best.]

I Slept with Someone in Fall Out Boy and All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me I Wanna Dance with Somebody (Who Loves Me) I'm Like a Lawyer with the Way I'm Always Trying to Get You Off (Me & You) I've Been Waiting [this is technically a lil peep song with fall out boy as a feature] I've Got a Dark Alley and a Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth (Summer Song) I've Got All This Ringing in My Ears and None on My Fingers Immortals Irresistible It's Hard to Say 'I Do', When I Don't It's Not a Side Effect of the Cocaine, I Am Thinking It Must Be Love Jet Pack Blues Just One Yesterday Lake Effect Kid (song) Lake Shore Drive [this is a song patrick covered on the piano at wrigley, first night of tourdust] Love from the Other Side Love Will Tear Us Apart Love, Selfish Love* Love, Sex, Death Lullabye Mad at Nothing* Miss Missing You Moving Pictures My Heart Is the Worst Kind of Weapon My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark (Light Em Up) New Dreams [this is a bonus track on pax am days, a naked rayguns cover] Nobody Puts Baby in the Corner Novocaine Of All the Gin Joints in All the World One of Those Nights [another song from the cab's whisper war. this one has patrick doing vocals very prominently] Open Happiness [this was a huge collaborative piece done for a coca cola commercial. patrick was on it along with big names like cee lo green, janelle monae, and labelmates travie mccoy and brendon urie] Our Lawyer Made Us Change the Name of This Song So We Wouldn't Get Sued Parker Lewis Can't Lose (But I'm Gonna Give It My Best Shot) Past Life [llamania ep] Pavlove People Never Done a Good Thing* Porcelain* Pretty in Punk Rat a Tat Reinventing the Wheel to Run Myself Over Roxanne Run Dry (X Heart X Fingers)* San Diego [this is a blink-182 song that patrick did some writing for] Saturday Saturday Night Again* Save Rock and Roll (song) Sending Postcards from a Plane Crash (Wish You Were Here) She's My Winona Short, Fast, and Loud Snitches and Talkers Get Stitches and Walkers So Good Right Now So Much (For) Stardust (song) So Sick [this is a song patrick has exclusively covered live, so it's a fascinating inclusion] Sober [another blink-182 song patrick did some writing for] Sophomore Slump or Comeback of the Year Star 67 Stay Frosty Royal Milk Tea Sugar, We're Goin Down Summer Days (song) [this is a martin garrix song patrick lent some vocals to] Sunshine Riptide Super Fade Switchblades and Infidelity Tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today The "I" In Lie* The (After) Life of the Party The (Shipped) Gold Standard The Carpal Tunnel of Love The Kids Aren't Alright The Kintsugi Kid (Ten Years) The Last of the Real Ones The Mighty Fall The Music or the Misery The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes The Phoenix The Pink Seashell The Pros and Cons of Breathing The Take Over, the Breaks Over The World's Not Waiting (For Five Tired Boys in a Broken Down Van) This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race This City* Thnks fr th Mmrs (song) [for some reason the site specifies song here, despite that not being necessary. the only other times this distinction is relevant is when songs share a title with their albums, i.e. save rock and roll] Thriller Tiffany Blews Twin Skeleton's (Hotel in NYC) Uma Thurman Untitled 1 (Colorado Song) Untitled 2 (Jakus Song) [both of these are recently released tttyg era demos] W.A.M.S. We Didn't Start the Fire We Don’t Take Hits, We Write Them [this is a song that famously was only ever performed live. we don't have a studio recording or even a demo, as only live versions exist] We Were Doomed from the Start (The King is Dead) West Coast Smoker What a Catch, Donnie What a Time To Be Alive What's This? When I Made You Cry* Where Did the Party Go Wilson (Expensive Mistakes) Wrong Side of Paradise [llamania ep] XO You're Crashing, But You're No Wave Young and Menace Young Volcanoes Yule Shoot Your Eye Out

in conclusion i have no idea who compiled this list. it doesn't include every song patrick and pete have ever touched (notice the lack of gym class heroes, cobra starship, and hush sound discography) but it has a really weird selection of songs. i mean, blink songs patrick wrote on?? its bizarre.

anyway do you think if we mass request swing me by the rafters they'll have to do it

[russsiangirl]

art donaldson x reader headcanons ( both young and dilf art.. ) both banners by me!

starting off strong with young art ( heheh )

i feel like y'all met for a goofy reason

either he asked you for a piece of gum in a class because he ran out

that boy NEEDS his gum he can't live without it ( oral fixation? idk )

OR he saw you on the tennis court when you were meeting up with a friend of yours

you had heard of him of course, he had won the one tournament with his friend

but,, he sadly had his eyes on tashi duncan, not that you could exactly blame him, you've seen her - all lean muscle and tan skin.

that is until tashi starts dating patrick

he's kinda like a kicked puppy , a very jealous one

he's desperate to get his mind off of them, so he finds you

you're perfect for him, you're sweet, pretty, kind. but you're also pliable.

art's seen the way you'd look at him with those pretty eyes when he asked you a question, the way you would slightly stumble over your words

he would wanna laugh sometimes, not in a mean way, more of a 'how cute..' kinda way, yk?

he's a mastermind,, maybe manipulative but that just makes it better

he taps your shoulder one day and is like "hey so would you like,, wanna go out sometime?"

now you thought that he was just gonna ask for help with the assignment, but this- this was unexpected, but good. really good.

you obviously say yes & it goes great! after a couple dates you two start something that resembles a relationship

art is a sweetheart, buying you gifts, treating you to dinner when he can, taking you to his games - model boyfriend!

he loves being romantic and spending quality time with you

also double dates with tashi & patrick ( tension )

you notice the way patrick looks at art and you suspect something. had something happened between them?

you had heard about how tightly-knit the two of them were and something just didn't seem right

so after the date and you two go back to the dorm or wherever y'all are staying you ask him what was up with him and patrick

art shuts down, not saying anything and goes completely silent.

he's not one to talk about things like these or his past

art likes to talk as much as he loves to listen

like if you found a new interest and/or hyperfixation he would listen to you and find so endearing

he loves the way you get so excited and you just beam at him whenever you do something that makes you happy, it makes him just as equally happy

art also loves when you wear his clothes, he finds it funny how they drape over you since he's like six foot.

art does like being praised ( take that as you will ) but when you're reassuring him, especially after his games or practice or anything he just wants to shower you with all the affection he can muster <3

this is my late fathers day present to y'all.. enjoy

ah yes, art as a father, my favorite

he's not married at this point ( sadly no tashi, they got divorced )

he's a lot more tired than he was back in college, obviously

y'all definitely met at some sort of event, you were a reporter for a sports magazine who had sent you to cover whatever it was that you were there for

you just didn't know it would involve art

when you first see him, you didn't really know what to expect - but not this

art with his short-cropped sandy hair and pretty blue eyes and blonde lashes, he looks ethereal, almost like he doesn't belong here

he was distracted most of the interview, too distracted by you with your sweet voice and nice hands and silly questions

so you two rescheduled, over dinner! win-win, you get to spend more time with him and you get your job done

the two of you connect really easily and you agree to do this again, without the interview part

there's something about the two of you thats so entrancing to each other

IMAGINE WITH AN AGE DIFFERENCE

like you're 21 - 22 and he's like 32.. it only makes him crave you more, he can show you things you've never seen

you might be a bit skeptical, but art is telling you that you can trust him, he won't push boundaries, none of that and you do trust him

he does let you meet lily eventually and when you do, you're enamored with her, she's so sweet and you could see art in her

you knew about his past relationship with tashi, but you didn't mind

but older!art is also romantic, sure the paparazzi is interested in the two of you - so most of the dates are at home. he likes it better that way

ough,, this was a LOT - late father's day present yk.. i love you guys - enjoy this! like and follow if you enjoyed these hehe

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Pregnant with Patrick’s Daughter (Challengers)

Description: Y/N is pregnant with Patrick’s baby but she’s with Art.

Word Count:986

Request: "Maybe something with a pregnant reader and like Patrick’s the dad. It could be fluff or angst, idk I’m just curious to see how the dynamic between Patrick and like his child would be lol!”

Author’s note: I added a twist in it. Hope you like it!

Y/N looked down at the pregnancy test in shock. Her and Patrick used protection or did they? She honestly couldn’t remember but this was bad news. She was with Art and fucking Patrick. Though she knows that it’s not Art’s kid because he’s been too busy with Tennis to even fuck her. Art would know that the kid wasn’t his, especially if the kid looks like Patrick. Truth be told, Y/N loved Patrick and she also loved Art. It was hard for her to choose between them when they both wanted her as well. She looked at the engagement ring that was placed on her finger. She twirled it and played with it as she thought of what she was going to do. 

Art was practicing for his match today so Y/N called Patrick. The two weren’t friends anymore which made the situation worse. He thought she wanted to have sex again so he kissed her hard as soon as she opened the door. She pushed him back and he gave her a confused look. “We need to talk.” She said, he nodded and followed her to the kitchen. “Take a seat.” She demanded. “Ohh I love it when you get all dominant with me.” He smirked. She gave him a look and his smirk dropped. “Listen I don’t know what to do about this or why I'm even telling you at this point but I’m pregnant.” His jaw drops at her words, “And it’s yours because Art and I haven’t had sex in awhile.” He got up from the chair and pulled her in for a hug. “That’s great. I’m gonna be a dad.” He whispered. She pulled away from the hug, “Patrick, I’m with Art. He’s not gonna be happy about this.” Patrick didn’t really care. He hated Art for taking Y/N from him. That pathetic bastard got everything he wanted. “Well he’s not gonna wanna be with you since you’re carrying another man’s baby. My baby to be exact.” She glared at him. Of course he’d be happy about this. He hated Art. 

“What?” Art screeched as he stood up from the couch. It didn’t make sense why Patrick was here but now it did. “Art, I’m sorry this isn’t how I wanted you to find out.” She tells him. Patrick had a proud smirk on his face. “Found out what? That you’re fucking my ex best friend and having his baby?” Y/N looked at him with a guilty expression. She really did feel bad. “Art it’s hard for me.” She said with tears in her eyes. “You’re crying? You’re fucking my ex best friend and you’re crying?” He yelled. “Art, I love you both.” Patrick didn’t know that she loved him, nor did Art. “What?” Patrick whispered at her confession. “I love you both and I know that you guys hate each other but I can’t live without you guys.” She said, tears still streaming down her face. Patrick stood up and looked at Art who looked so broken at the news. Y/N’s eyes flickered between the two of them. “Art, please say something.” She begged her fiance. He shook his head and laughed. Both, Y/N and Patrick looked confused. “Get the fuck out!” He told them. “Art, please-” “Get the fuck out!” He screamed at her. 

She laid in Patrick’s bed with tears streaming down her face. Her belly bigger and full with Patrick’s baby. It’s been 6 months since Art kicked her out. He hadn’t spoken to either of them, not that she thought he would. He had the right to be upset with her. She cheated on him and got pregnant. But it still hurt her a lot, she loved them both and it was selfish that she felt sad because she had Patrick. But she wanted both. The front door opened and she quickly wiped her tears. Patrick made his way to the bedroom to see Y/N and her tummy full of his baby. He smiled at the sight. She saw him enter the bedroom and smiled at him. He came and collapsed on the bed next to her. He turned towards her and stared at her stomach. “I can’t wait til she’s born.” He said and placed his hand on her tummy. She smiled and agreed with him. She placed her hand on his and the baby kicked. They both gasped and looked at each other. This was the first time they baby kicked for Patrick. Tears started forming in his eyes as he smiled. “I finally felt her kick.” Y/N nodded and ran her fingers through his hair. 

Y/N watched as Patrick gave their 4 year old daughter a racket. She chuckled as their daughter kept dropping it but everytime Patrick gave her it again. He was so patient with her and so sweet. It made Y/N’s heart melt. She giggled as their daughter almost hit Patrick with the racket. He looked at his wife and smiled at her. She got up from her seat and walked over to them. “Try not to kill daddy, sweetheart.” She joked. Their 4 year old giggled and gave the racket to Y/N. Y/N took it and melted when she ran into Patrick’s arms. Patrick smiled and hugged her back. Y/N felt happiness in her life, ever since their daughter was born. She didn’t think of Art anymore, unless she saw him on the news. He was a pro tennis player like Patrick and he married Tashi Duncan. She was happy for him, truly. “Hey uh I guess now would be the time to tell you that I’m playing in the challengers and Art will be there.” Her smile dropped at his name. She had a bad feeling about this and almost told him not to go. But she would be by his side with their daughter to support him. She wouldn’t let Art being there ruin this for them.

[poppy-metal]

the reader dbf patrick stepdaddy art is DIABOLICAL and i need it RIGHT NOW actually. crying on patricks cock for the first time while art watches like, "im sorry, daddy, 'm sorry, just wanted it so bad, so so badly, you understand, right, you get it?" and the funny thing is, he totally does, because its patrick, yes, he gets it, more than anything he gets it, but this is wrong, isn't it? this is wrong and fucked up and evil, but you're reaching for his belt with wide, wet eyes, begging, "can make it up to you, daddy, can make you feel real good, please, 'm sorry, let me show you how sorry i am" and his resolve just has to crumple.

(obviously there has to be about six million years of YEARNING in between but you know. the horny.)

-kit ♡♡♡

@gamesetart ur sick for enabling me. i slowed things down a little bc i was cooking but the outcome will probably eventually be this. LMAO

under a cut because like patrick, this is sending me straight to hell i fear.

skipping ahead a million years just to fuck stepdad!art who also happens to be patricks ex who hes never gotten over and has been friends with this whole time - maybe its his fault actually, that you fall in love with patrick at the tender age of 14 - because art loves him so much. hes around so much. like father like daughter, right? he might not be your dad by blood but he is in every other way that counts - he has full custody - your mom been out of the picture for awhile now. its almost like having two dad, growing up. you think art and patrick are closer than any two men you've seen before. but they date other women so you don't think much of it - you want art to be happy again. you dont blame him for leaving your mother, you're just happy he took you with him.

anyway - falling for patrick is inevitable - it burns inside you like a wildfire you have no chance of stopping, so you dont try.

and patrick..... maybe he's given up hope on art after all these years. they'd had something brief and tangible in college - but it'd fizzled out - art had pretended it didn't happen. and patrick loved art too much to press the issue. he'd been content to live forever being arts best friend and nursing a flame for him that would never be returned.

and then you'd come along - it'd been hell watching art get married - he never liked that bitch, anyway, for more reasons than sharing arts bed. she treated her kid like dirt. art even worse. it got to a point where the only reason art was staying around was for you - he couldn't leave you. you were just a kid. and art had only been with you for three years but it was enough. enough for him to love you. enough for him to martyr himself for you and stay in an unhappy marriage if it meant he could play the role of daddy for you.

it may have been him who planted the seed. he'd met you a few times by that point, but he remembers a pool party where you'd been sucking on a lollipop as you watched art work the grill - your mother somewhere inside - you were twelve then - old enough to have some brain cells, patrick figured.

"he'd make a good dad, dont you think?" he'd nudged you. "i mean look at him - already rocking the dad stance with a fucking polo to match. he'll be telling us it looks like a storms rollin' in any second now."

and you'd popped the lolly out of your mouth and showed him your teeth with your smile.

a raised brow. "really? does he know that? does your mother?"

"he already is my dad, though."

you'd frowned. stuck the lolly back in your mouth. he could tell he'd given your brain alot to think about that.

it was only a year later that the divore was finalized. and art was granted full custody of you as his daughter - full guardianship. patrick got him the hell out of that town shortly thereafter.

and that was it, really. that was the plan. just to live in peace. he didn't expect to grow so attached to you. to enjoy watching you grow up. to enjoy being there for your important milestones. he saw a bit of himself in you, too, that wild precociousness. that want to run free. saw how it fucking terrified art, who wanted nothing but the best for you after the life you'd had. always the hero.

so yeah, when you'd started your rebellious teen phase he'd helped you hide it. picked you up from parties when you couldn't drive home instead of calling your dad. because he didn't want to see art unhappy. he didn't want to see art look at you and see the patrick in you and hate it. he couldn't.

he didn't know you'd fall in love with him. he didn't.

and when he realized you had, he'd pushed you away. he had.

but the thing is - as much as you had patrick in you - you had art as well. your inherent kindness. your sweet open face. your determination and dedication. he saw it and then he couldn't unsee it. and as long as he'd held onto his love for art he was tired. he was fucking tired of being unloved and unwanted and here you were - a tether to art - his beautiful babygirl - and you were throwing yourself at him. loving him. wanting him. so fucking beautiful and innocent - just like art had been, all those years ago.

couldn't fault him for caving. he'd faught it, but patricks not a good man. and hes a stray dog at the end of the day, dirty and hungry and begging for scraps.

he fucking devoured you. took from you. took your virginity - just like he did your fathers - broke it on his cock and tried not to feel sick that the symbolic way your blood drenched his cock connected you and him and art in a way that was as holy and it was perverted. he fucked you and he fucked you and he fucked you. he had you whenever and wherever he wanted and he didn't allow himself to think about the consequences of it - because he was fucking greedy for it - you took everything he was and you bit into it and you bounced on his dick like he was a fucking god and he found himself falling in love all over again.

he'd find a way to tell art and make it right. he would.

but then there'd been that night when art asked him out for drinks and patrick would tell something was wrong. he'd been distant from art lately, if he was being honest, consumed completely by you. the only reason he was free was because you were at a friends.

when art had confessed he felt you pulling away the guilt had set in... because art looked so sad. so pathetic and lonely and patrick had never wanted this for art. his heart pitched and dropped in his chest and he couldn't tell art about you - not now -

and then art had looked at him and said "you know she reminds me of you -" and patricks lips had parted. the alcohol in his system warmed his blood, but so did the heavy weight of arts eyes on him. it was a look patrick hadn't seen in years. decades even.

It was how you looked at him.

hungry.

that's all patrick thought as art drew closer and closer to him. fuck, when art placed a hand on his thigh. fuck, when his cock twitched. fuck, when art said he missed those days back in college. fuck, when art leaned in and patrick didn't pull away.

fuck.

fuck again, when he came to and they were back at arts apartment - fuck when they passed your room and thank fuck you weren't home, thank fuck - fuck fuck fuck when art got on his knees and stroked patricks cock and patrick thought his first clear thought of the night -

fuck fuck and fuck again because he lost his mind a little when arts lips touched his. went a little dizzy with it.

fuck fuck fuck - because arts sinful pink mouth descended around him and he fucking moaned around it and in some twisted dark corner of patricks seedy mind he thought art must taste you on him - must know its you hes tasting and thats why he throats him deeper like a fucking whore.

i fucked her this morning. he's about to suck his daughter's pussy off my dick and he doesn't even fucking know -

patrick knows hes going to hell.

he knows it because he uses the same fingers he'd had inside your cunt to spread your dads ass open for the same dick he'd plunged into you - he knows hes going to hell because when he slides inside and art moans he thinks he sounds just as pretty as you do - they take me so fucking well - made for me - fucking made for me

and when he pulls out to come down and swallow arts cock down his own throat he moans when he thinks about kissing you later tonight with your fathers spunk on his tongue -

hes going to hell.

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 16

Part 16:

Patrick heard Liana vomiting faintly and it made him jump out of bed. "Li, is everything okay?" he asked from outside the bathroom. "Everything's great, go back to sleep," she stammered, and he sighed. He went to the kitchen and filled a glass of water, entered the bathroom, and saw her sitting on the floor, holding her hair with one hand and gripping the edge of the toilet with the other, trying to steady herself.

"Hey, baby, it's okay. I got you," he mumbled, placing the glass on the sink and sitting down next to Liana, holding her hair in place and tracing gentle shapes on her shoulder. She was shaking from the effort as her free hand also moved to hold onto the toilet.

"Sorry I woke you," she mumbled after a few minutes, not moving her head out of fear of vomiting again. "Don't be silly, is it something you ate?" he asked. His eyebrows furrowed as he handed her the water. "There was only regular milk at work, I probably drank one cup of coffee too many yesterday," she mumbled, and as soon as she finished speaking, she vomited again, and they found themselves in the same position.

"Come on," after a few minutes of this, he helped her get up from the floor. Patrick spread toothpaste on her toothbrush and put it in her mouth, starting to move it side to side. Liana could cry. She felt the tears gathering at the back of her eyes, in moments like these she remembers how gentle and sensitive Patrick can be. If he only wants to, if he cares enough.

He stood in the bathroom while she showered and didn't take his eyes off her, not in a sexual way but out of genuine concern. Because at the end of the day, Patrick loves her, even if sometimes he doesn't know how to show it.

"Shall we go back to sleep?" he asked hopefully. "There's no point, I feel better and in half an hour, I would've had to get up anyway," she shrugged as he handed her a towel. "Li, maybe you should stay home today?" he asked, even though he knew the answer. "I'm on a schedule and in a few days, the construction starts, I need to get there to fix some drawings. If I'm lucky, I might be able to leave earlier," she smiled at him. "I don't know..." he tried to protest. Just ten minutes ago, she was shaking in his hands, and now he has to let her get dressed and leave the house. "I'm fine Pat, really. I'll drink tea today, and I'll be okay," she gave him a small kiss on the lips and left the bathroom, concluding the conversation.

"Then there must be a pillar here, otherwise the whole thing will collapse, and we didn't draw it in the sketch." Art heard Liana's voice from afar, like an echo. He automatically found himself walking towards her, because that's why Art came. He didn't really care about the construction schedule; as far as he was concerned, the longer this thing took, the more time he had to come and see her work. An excuse to be close without being creepy.

"Hey," he gave a small wave, keeping his distance from her conversation but letting her know he was there. "Mr. Donaldson," she mumbled, and so did the guy working with her. Art could say that nothing happens in his body when she calls him 'Mr. Donaldson'. That formality in front of people doesn't affect him at all. It doesn't send a little shiver through him. No memories surface, and he certainly doesn't imagine that one day she might be 'Mrs. Donaldson'. He could say all that, but he tries not to lie too much.

"Miss Levy," he returned a toothy smile, and she walked towards him. "Why are you here?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Where? On the land I bought?" he was amused. Now that she was closer, he could examine her. He wondered if he would ever get used to the fact that she needed glasses now when she worked. Or the small wrinkle that formed on the side of her mouth from the number of times she smiled and laughed. He wished it was because of him. Too many times he thinks about the number of things he could tell her that would make her laugh enough to deepen that wrinkle.

"You look... green." he mumbled after a few seconds. She was pale, even for her. "It's January, I turn green in January." she retorted. "Liana." he tried a more official tone, a bit more concerned. "I'm fine, Arthur, let it go. Can I ask a favor?" she asked, looking at him with big eyes. Making him raise an eyebrow. There are very few things Liana could ask of him that he wouldn't agree to do. She must know that by now. "Always." he said quicker than his ego was happy to hear. "Can you give me Tashi's number?" she asked and saw his surprised look. "Why? Are you trying to steal my coach for your lazy boyfriend?" he asked, feigning amusement. He didn't understand the endgame of this move. Overall, he didn't understand what Liana had to talk about with Tashi; Liana hates tennis, and from what Art knows, Tashi enjoys talking mostly about tennis. "don't call Patrick lazy, can you give it to me or not?" she didn't answer him. "Will it hurt my interests?" he asked, pulling out his phone. "I would never do that, Art." she sighed, and he sent her the number. There are very few things Art Donaldson wouldn't give to Liana Levy.

Liana waved for a second when she saw Tashi entering the café where they had agreed to meet. She couldn't help but feel tense and wondered how to calm her jittery leg. Why couldn't she just act like a normal person and be more…cool.

"Hey, Liana, what's up? Sorry if I'm late." Tashi was a bit confused. A bit was an understatement. Tashi was very confused. 'Hey, it's Liana, if you have free time, I'd really appreciate it if we could meet' was the message she received yesterday, and that's how she found herself in a café, sitting in front of the girl Art has been trying to fuck without success for God knows how long. Tashi couldn't help but wonder what Art's tennis would look like if he succeeded.

"All good. I'm early." Liana smiled. "Do you want to order something to eat?" she asked, and Tashi waved at the waiter, asking for coffee. Her energy was businesslike. Always in a hurry. Always busy. It didn't matter that she came from the rain. It didn't matter if she was cold or hot. She had no time to waste. "What's up, Liana?" Tashi asked after a few more minutes of awkward silence. "Is this about Art?" she added. "No... Art's not involved." she answered too quickly. Why did she answer so quickly? "So how can I help you?" she asked, taking a sip of the coffee that had just arrived.

"I don't have many friends here." Liana took a deep breath. She knew how it sounded. Desperate and pathetic. But she had no choice. She really didn't know who to talk to. "So... you want me to?" Tashi looked horrified for a moment. Not understanding what situation she had gotten into. "God, no." Liana's eyes widened. "Can you stop with the leg? It's driving me crazy." Tashi said. All the chaotic energy Liana was emitting didn't suit her. It almost threw her off balance.

"I'm pregnant." Liana said quietly right after she took a sip of her tea. She examined Tashi, who looked back at her. "Patrick?" Tashi asked, and Liana looked at her horrified. "Of course it's Patrick's. Whose else?!" she defended herself. "So, congratulations, I guess?" Tashi still didn't understand why she was there. Why her time was being wasted with news about her ex from years ago. If it's not Art's child, if it doesn't become Tashi's problem, why bother filling her brain with this unnecessary information.

"No. I don't want this." Liana said, and Tashi couldn't hide her surprise. "I'm Sorry, what?" she couldn't stop herself. "It was a mistake. I'm on the pill, and I really don't know how it happened. I need to stop this..." Liana mumbled. It wasn't coherent, but Tashi understood every word. "You've been together for years, Liana, I don't understand..." Tashi tried to be more sensitive. "It's just not the right time. We need more stability, and bringing a child into something like this is just not fair." she said, looking at her for a change.

"I would go alone, but I need someone to be listed as an escort," she averted her gaze as she said it. Ashamed of what she was asking from the girl in front of her, a complete stranger in her life, yet the only one she could think of. "Patrick?" Tashi asked quietly. "He doesn't know." Liana's eyes filled with tears. "Please-" she had been thinking about this monologue from the moment she found out, three days ago. "Okay" there was no need. Tashi answered immediately. "Okay, I'll go with you." she smiled the most genuine smile she had to offer.  "Thank you." they both took a sip of their drinks.  The rain outside intensified.

When Liana entered the house, Patrick was in the kitchen, and she quietly leaned on the doorframe, watching him while he wasn't looking. Thinking about what she was going to do tomorrow. Knowing it's for their own good. He wouldn't understand if she told him. He wouldn't understand, and he would want to keep it, and neither of them could raise a child right now. She knows that. She knows he will hate her no matter what she decides tomorrow. If he finds out, he will feel trapped. He will feel like she has ruined his life. Again. Little by little. Each time draining him of the last drop of joy left in him. The last drop of youth.

"Are you just staring now? Not saying hello?" he asked, amused. He had felt her gaze on him for a few minutes. "Hey," she approached him and hugged him from behind. Leaning on his shoulder and closing her eyes. "Hey, Lilo," he was confused. Not understanding the sudden closeness. The last few days had been strange, to say the least. Liana and Patrick hadn't fought even once. She hadn't been feeling well, and he mostly tried not to bother her with his presence. He was afraid of making her feel even worse than she already did, and the more he distanced himself, the closer she got. The more space he gave her, the more she sought touch.

"What are you making?" she asked quietly, not moving an inch, still with her eyes closed. "I'm pretty useless, but I called your mom, and she gave me a recipe for the soup you like," he said quietly. "You called my mom?" she asked in a half-broken voice. "You haven't been well for a few days, Lilo. I wanted to make something that would make you feel good," their gazes met.

Liana started crying, and Patrick panicked. These weren't just tears welling up in her eyes but real crying with her hands on her face. "Hey, hey, Liana. What's going on?" he gently took her hands off her face, revealing how red she had become in those seconds, how sad she was. His hug was comforting. More comforting than anything she had felt recently. "I'm such a bitch. Really," she mumbled. "Lilo, you're the kindest person I know," he chuckled above her head, tracing small shapes on her shoulder while gently rocking her, trying to soothe her in any way he could.

"I really love you. You know that, right?" she pulled away from him for a second and studied him. "Of course, I know," he replied, "I don't understand what's going on, Lil. I need you to talk to me." He was half-lost, not understanding what he did or what she did that led to this situation. "I don't say it enough, but I really love you, Patrick. More than I love most people in the world," she said again, unable to stop the tears. "I know. I really know," he replied, hugging her once more, not letting her slip away from him. "You're okay. Whatever it is, we're okay," he said, and she nodded into him.

Liana also thinks that most of the time, they are okay.

The months that passed were more of the same. Liana worked on Art's house, meeting with him once or twice a week to show him the project's progress. Every time he tried to have a conversation beyond professional matters, Liana cut him off. She owed that to Patrick. She owed it to herself and Patrick to be okay. She couldn't let herself betray him emotionally with someone who, the moment he had a hold on her emotions, her entire system would recalibrate around him again.

The calm dynamic between Liana and Patrick lasted exactly two weeks. Liana was quite sure they didn’t know how to manage without fighting to the point where she wanted to smash a plate against the wall. Sometimes they went to bed without exchanging a single word, and those were the days it was hardest for her to be near him. Those were the days she also canceled meetings with Art because Patrick made her so angry she became indifferent. And indifference leads to mistakes. She knew that. She had seen it up close.

Now, with both Art and Patrick participating in the tournament in Atlanta, Liana found herself ordering coffee and soda at the hotel bar while opening her laptop, hoping to tie up some loose ends before sitting down with Art for a few minutes tomorrow. "Hey, Liana," she heard Tashi’s voice from behind. They hadn’t been in touch since that time, when Tashi went with her. But Liana had a soft spot for the woman in front of her. She used to be so afraid of her once, trembling when exchanging more than a word with her. Today she thought she and Tashi saw each other with flaws and strengths. Sometimes Liana didn’t know what her strengths were, but she always knew Tashi’s.

"Hey," she smiled at her. "Mind if I sit for a bit while I wait for my order for Art and me?" she asked. "Is he sending you to fetch orders now?" Liana raised an eyebrow. It was uncharacteristic. "Actually, no, I saw you from afar and didn’t want his mind to be distracted." Tashi said, and Liana rolled her eyes, wanting to say something. "There’s no way I could distract him right now. Not before I finish working, nothing to talk to him about" she said, and Tashi rolled her eyes and chuckled. Liana wasn’t entirely sure if something was happening between Tashi and Art. It wasn’t her place to ask him, she wasn’t in contact with Tashi, and her parents hadn’t told her anything special as gossip as they usually did about his life. Maybe it was just friendly, and she was purely his coach, but Liana didn’t want to be in the middle of it. She wasn’t going to disrupt Art’s happiness. She was with Patrick. Most of the time, she was happy with Patrick.

"Has he ever shown you his necklace?" Tashi asked. "Excuse me?" Liana was confused. "Art, has he ever shown you his necklace?" she asked again, slower, like speaking to a child. "No, I never asked, and it’s always under his shirt," Liana shrugged as Tashi took her order. "He’s such a pussy," she shook her head from side to side, chuckling. "So dominant on the court and yet, such a coward. Unbelievable. Good to see you, send my regards to Patrick," she smiled and walked toward the exit, not giving Liana a chance to respond.

Art was terrified. He was bored, so he went down to the lobby half an hour before the time he had arranged with Liana. He was so happy he could see her in person and knowing she was also in Atlanta, that he didn’t care the only reason they were meeting was to talk about the house. But now he felt the air leave his lungs. He saw Tashi and Patrick. Holding hands. Like that. In the fucking lobby. And while Tashi didn’t owe anyone anything, Patrick owed Liana. And Art was supposed to be happy because he understood what was happening. It was Patrick. No matter how much time passed, he knew Patrick.

When he returned his gaze to where they had been sitting, after giving someone an autograph, they were gone. His heart was beating faster than usual. He felt like crying. He was supposed to be happy, but all he could think about was Liana’s face and that he was about to be someone who told her something that would make her cry. Again. He swore to himself he'd never make her cry again, but he was about to. And he hated it.

"Donaldson," she smiled at him, causing him to jump in his chair. "How did you get so startled, you were practically looking at me," she rolled her eyes, and he smiled at her. "What’s wrong?" she asked. His smile was fake. Liana hated that she could still tell if his smile was fake. "Nothing, just thoughts about the tournament." he said. "You crushed your competitor today, you’ll be fine." she rolled her eyes. "Mind if I order some wine? It’ll help me sleep." she added. He didn’t know she liked to drink wine. "Of course. I would order some too, but, you know." he replied, somewhat pleased she was allowing herself to relax a bit around him. It took her only a year.

"So, I’ll show you a few things and then let you go." she said, sipping her wine, and he nodded. "Hit me." "Question, while the computer loads." she said, and he looked at her. Liana hated how his green hoodie made the bright blue of his eyes stand out. She had never seen so many shades of blue as when she looked closely at Art Donaldson’s eyes.

"Talk to me." he leaned on his elbow, not taking his eyes off her. A little reveling in the moment. A little afraid to ruin it. A little wanting to ruin it. Because the voice in his head told him he had to tell her. Liana had to know. She deserved to know. Art deserved a chance. He would never do this to her.

"What’s the story with your necklace?" she asked, and he raised an eyebrow, quickly running a hand over the back of his neck. "There’s no story." he answered too quickly. He wanted to punch himself for it. "Arthur. Come on, what’s the deal, you didn’t wear a necklace when we were kids. Is it a gift from someone?" she asked. "Are you keeping track of my jewelry, Liana? Be careful, I might think you care about me more than you let on." he knew it would make her change the subject. He wouldn’t tell, but the blush on her cheeks and the big sip she took from her wine only made the conversation better.

"This is the final plan. They started the interior construction two days ago." she showed him a diagram on the computer, moving a bit closer to him. Close enough for her scent to hit him like a slap in the face. He wanted to dive into that closeness. To reach out. To tell her and immediately promise everything would be okay. That he would be there to pick up the pieces. He knew he could.

"I saw Patrick and Tashi earlier." he said quietly, almost in a whisper. Not taking his eyes off her. "Oh, I didn’t know they were in touch..." Liana said, not moving her eyes from the computer. "Liana," he sighed. He hoped she would understand from the previous sentence. That he wouldn’t have to say it. "What?" she looked at him and chuckled, but her smile quickly faded when she saw his expression, "Just say what you have to say, Donaldson." she said with an uncharacteristic coldness.

She knew Art too well. Every time she tried to deny it, she could precisely recognize a look he gave or a joke that no one around understood. She knew how to tell by his walking pace to a construction site if he had a good practice or if he was tired. She knew who he was at his core. And more than anything, she knew how he looked when he was about to break her heart.

"They were holding hands and then disappeared from my sight," he sighed, breathing heavily. He said it in a whisper, almost not wanting to say what had been weighing on him. "Oh." she drank all that was left of her wine in one gulp and signaled the waiter she wanted another glass, returning her gaze to the computer. "I need to finish a few things, and I believe we can wrap everything up in two months. After that, you’ll need to work with an interior designer-" "Liana." Art interrupted her and placed his hand on hers, giving it a slight squeeze. This made her move her hand to her leg.

Without realizing it, tears welled up in her eyes, and the waiter who brought her wine hurried away from the table as fast as he arrived. "Talk to me, please." he was desperate to know what was going through her mind. "It’s okay, it’s whatever," she shrugged and looked at him indifferently, letting one of her tears fall.

"Liana." he sighed. "How is it okay? He’s cheating on you." Art wanted to raise his voice. He wasn’t mad at her. He was mad at Patrick. He was mad at the circumstances. He was mad at himself. "I know what holding hands and disappearing with Tashi Duncan means for someone like Patrick, Art. Contrary to what you think, I’m not stupid." her words were almost venomous, but he knew she wasn’t lashing out at him. He knew he was the closest person right now. He was ready to take it.

"What do you think is happening here?" she asked, taking another big sip of wine. "That I’ll hear about Tashi and Patrick and go up to your room so you can fuck me until I forget all my problems?" she asked, and he almost choked on his own spit. He didn’t expect her to be so blunt. That sentence showed how long she’d been in a relationship with Patrick. He spoke through her.

"No, Liana." he sighed again. Running his hand over the back of his neck once more but this time leaving it there a little longer. "I’m content in my relationship. Shit happens." she finished the second glass in one go and closed the laptop, ready to leave. "Shit happens? How many times has it already happened, Liana?" he couldn’t believe the level of indifference. He wanted to shake her so hard that her brain would reset and go back to the beginning. To reboot her self-respect that had clearly been trampled on more than once.

"Bye Art, good luck tomorrow." she muttered and turned. This time his grip on her hand was firm above the table. She wouldn’t be able to move him. Not now. "You’re making a scene." she whispered. He couldn’t help but think about the power dynamics between them now that she was standing and he was sitting, but he was holding her. She couldn’t move as long as he was holding her. And if it were up to him, he would hold her forever.

"Look. Here." he did the only thing he could think of and pulled the pendant of the necklace over his shirt. Seeing her breath catch for a moment. "Is that...?" She couldn't find the words and automatically moved her free hand over the metal. "Yes." He whispered. His grip loosened, and he let his fingers intertwine with hers over the table without her pulling away. "Why?" She murmured, not stopping her hand from moving over the pendant, her dorm key. The key he refused to return to her time and again. Hanging around his neck. "You know why." He closed his eyes for a moment. "Why?" She asked again. Not letting go. She had to hold on to something, and he knew that if he wanted to give her a moment of peace, even if not for himself—because for himself, he would have chosen another way to tell her, to show her—that all these years, she had been his good luck charm, even from afar. Right now, she was the only one who mattered. Only succeeding in changing the way she looked at herself and what she thought she deserved. "Because I’m yours. I’ve always been only yours."

Oh my god!!! I hope it wasn't too long. I feel like so much has happened in this part, but we are finally in Atlanta. What are you thinking guys? We've got a bit more Tashi on this one. I love hearing from you, so talk to me. Thanks for still reading and commenting. It means the actual world. 

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[artssslut2]

“You Just Have to Copy Everything I Do”

Art x Patrick x Reader

Summary: Patrick finds out some big news and looks to his best friend for advice.

Dad!Art + Dad!Patrick

A lot had happened since Lily was born it had been about five months. Patrick had purposed to y/f/n last month. It was soon but when he knows something he knows it. Patrick was crazy about her. You and art also loved her of course. The four of you would often spend time together, go on double dates or hang out at your house, they both adored Lily, you couldn’t blame them.

Tonight you had a little get together planned with Patrick and his fiancé just dinner and maybe a card game or a movie after Lily was down for the night. Art was finishing getting Lily I’m her pajamas and rocking her to sleep when you heard the doorbell ring, it was a little early but you didn’t mind you went to answer but it was only Patrick. A pale distressed looking Patrick, leaning against the doorframe. Before you could say anything he opened his mouth

“Hey, Um can I talk to Art?” He said a little shaken up. You didn’t ask any questions you just hoped he was okay this was weird

“Yeah he’s with Lily let me go grab him” you said

“Wait I mean if he’s putting her to bed I can jus-“

“Patrick it’s okay I’ll go get him.” You smiled, you knew this was serious, you could finish your daughters night routine.

You walked into the nursery and saw Art in the rocking chair with Lily fast asleep in his arms with a blanket and her pacifier.

“Babe Patrick’s here he needs to talk to you.” You whispered to not wake the baby

“He can wait a minute” Art said looking down at his daughter peacefully. This was Arts version of heaven

“Art you should go now I think he needs you” you told him, Art looked up then got the message. Standing up taking Lily with him

“Alright but I’m taking my baby with. We didn’t get our full cuddle time” he said leaving the room quickly kissing you in passing as you chucked at him.

Art came out into the dimly lit living room where Patrick was sitting.

“This better be good” Art said sitting across from his best friend, adjusting Lily so she was laying in his arms. He expected Patrick to say something stupid

“She’s pregnant.” He said immediately staring at the wall. Arts mouth opened in shock

“Y/f/n?” He asked knowing the answer. Patrick nodded slowly

“And are you guys… happy?” Art carefully asked a little shocked. Patrick looked at Art then Lily then back at Art, he waited a minute

“I don’t know. We’re getting married, and I love her. I really love her. I just- I don’t-“ he tried to find the words but couldn’t

“Your terrified.” Art finished

“Yeah. I mean we talked about having kids in the future but I didn’t think it would be right now” Patrick breathed out “we aren’t married we don’t have a house we haven’t talked about what to do when the baby is born” Patrick fell back leaning on the couch his hand on his eyes

“You guys will figure it out. Pat you’ve never really been a traditional guy and you love her and she loves you that’s all that really matters. As long as you have each other’s backs it will be fine” Art told him

“I don’t want to mess this up Art. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me you know? “

“Yeah I do. It’s scary. I know it was a little different with me and y/n but Jesus Patrick I was scared shitless” Art said letting out a small laugh thinking back on the time he first found out he was gonna be a dad.

“Are you still scared?” Patrick asked looking at the sleeping baby

“Cmon of course I’m still scared. Everyday. But Patrick trust me it’s all worth it, when they look at you and grab your finger, it’s like nothing else matters. It’s scary but you figure it out as you go. Just the other day Lily had a cold and we had no idea what to do. We had to call my mom and she almost flew in because we were so freaked out… I know you don’t have the best relationship with your parents but me and y/n are right here. We’ve already done this we can help.” He told his best friend meaning every word. Patrick smiled at Art “I’ve known you forever and I know your gonna be fine. You’ll be a great dad Pat… mabye not as good as me but good.” He joked making Patrick chuckle.

“Thanks man.”

“You know this will kind of be fun our kids can be best friends and grow up together now.” Art said relizing that this might just be perfect.

“Yeah I guess so. Lilys gonna have a new best friend pretty soon” Patrick smiled looking at his niece. Patrick stood up and Art followed

“You just have to copy everything I do don’t you Zweig” Art smirked. Patrick rolled his eyes smiling.

“I gotta get back to y/f/n.” Patrick said heading for the door.

“Yeah remember it’s scary for you but it’s a lot more scary for her” Art told Patrick, patrick agreed then left Arts house. Art smiled to himself thinking about how much he and his friend had grown up, now they were both gonna have kids. He didn’t know if Patrick would settle down but now he’s having a baby and getting married. Art looked at Lily and laughed a little

“Uncle Patrick is giving you a friend champ, can you believe it” he kissed Lily’s head and brought her to her crib.

[scotianostra]

Thomas Sean Connery was born in the Fountainbridge area of Edinburgh on 25th August, 1930.

Big Tam, as he was affectionately known around Fountainbridge in his youth, well he was Tommy until his teens, when he shot up in height and stature, at one point he entered a bodybuilding contest, he was 6'2″ at the time, weighed around 14 stone, had a 48-inch chest, 25-inch thigh, and his arms were 15.25 inches.

His first job was as a milkman with the St Cuthbert’s Co-Operative Society in Edinburgh. I would think he would have delivered the milk on a horse drawn carriage, the stables for these horses was in the are he grew up, were in Grove Street, where I used to live the main offices for St Cuthbert’s still stands round the corner on Fountainbridge.

Connery also played football at junior level for Bonnyrigg Rose, my cousin played for them too for several years.

A few more facts about Sean are he has a tattoo on his arm that state “Scotland Forever” he got when he enrolled in the Merchant Navy, he was discharged from that job due to stomach ulcers, between jobs he was a nude model for art students at Edinburgh College of art, again not to far from Fountainbridge. Other jobs he took up were, a lorry driver, a lifeguard at Portobello swimming baths,a labourer and a coffin polisher!

I think it is interesting Connery never strayed far from Fountainbridge in his younger days, indeed when he decided that acting was a career he was going to pursue, it was the nearby Kings Theatre he got a job helping backstage, he was also competing in bodybuilding competitions at this time and while at an event in London he learned that there were auditions being held for South Pacific, he was picked to appear on the chorus line but as the production toured the country he was making his way up the ladder.

By the time it hit Edinburgh he had the part of Marine Cpl Hamilton Steeves and was understudying two of the juvenile leads, and his salary was raised from £12 to £14–10s a week, when the production was reprised the following year he had the lead role on the tour, taking over from the actor Larry Hagman, who played the part in London’s West End.

Connery never looked back from there and of course the role of James Bond catapulted him to international stardom, Ian Fleming though was against him getting the part initially, he said Sean was “unrefined” and not what he had in mind, Sean soon won him over though and Fleming later admitted he was an “ideal” Bond.

A few of the parts Sean either didn’t get or turned down are Gandalf, in the Lord of the Rings series of films, he said he never understood the books and also wasn’t keen on 18 months of filming in New Zealand. He also turned down the chance to play the role of the Architect in The Matrix Reloaded and The Matrix Revolutions. Sean was asked to portray King Edward I in Braveheart, but was too busy working on Another film at the time, Patrick McGoohan took the role instead, I’m sort of glad he never played Longshanks.

His 93rd and last film was 2003’s The League of Extraordinary Gentleman - although he officially retired in 2006, although he was temporarily tempted back to do the voice of Sir Billi in the animated adventure comedy of the same name.

Sir Sean Connery passed away in his sleep on 31st October 2020 at his home in the Bahamas, his son said he had been unwell for some time. The official cause of death was pneumonia, heart failure and old age, his death certificate revealed.

In a career spanning over 50 years, Connery earned an Academy Award, multiple Golden Globes, including the Cecil B. DeMille and Henrietta Awards, as well as two British Academy Film Awards (BAFTA) awards.

I've posted more pics than I normally would, firstly to show that Sean was much more than the first Bond, but also because the Scottish public, had and still have a big connection and love for the big guy.

Sean Connery 25th August 1930 – 31st October 2020.

[divine-donna]

b tier

honestly, only i can be watching a b horror movie about killer bees and go "i should write something for patrick with this in the background."

character: patrick zweig

context: uhhh...let's say late 2018/early 2019

being a publicist was exhausting.

not that you didn't like your job. no, you loved it. it was just that working for tashi duncan and art donaldson could be very tiring. there were a lot of things you had to do and organize especially for the foundation.

they were your friends, from way back in stanford. you would've froze hell over to make what they wanted happen.

but gradually, you've been worn down.

a series of bad relationships, namely. how many girls and guys and people you've dated who, in the end, just wanted to get closer to the tashi duncan, the art donaldson. the power couple.

the worst one was probably patrick zweig.

you didn't know if he actually liked you or if he just wanted you so he could somehow get in proximity to art and tashi.

or maybe he was trying to satiate his desire for both. after all, you had brief relationships with both tashi and art back in college. perhaps he only wanted you because tashi and art lingered on you. almost literally in a sense because they signed off your checks and you were lily's godparent.

you were very surprised when there was a knock on your door and you look at the time on your clock. 11:30pm. who was knocking on your door this late?

it certainly wasn't tashi or art. especially art. he's usually in bed by this time.

you don't bother to pause your movie. you've seen it millions of times before. you walk over to the front door of your apartment and peer into the peep hole.

"what the...!"

you unlock the deadbolt, but keep the chain lock in place, and open the door. "what the fuck do you want."

"good to see you too." patrick's got that smug grin on his face. but he looks worse for wear. his clothes are disheveled. there are dark circles beneath his eyes. he doesn't have that bright glow to his face. or at least, the last time you saw him.

"how did you get my address?"

"google."

"that's not very funny patrick."

"okay, okay." he puts his hands up in defense. you notice his bags on the ground behind him. "a friend of yours. jace?"

"jace? oh jace you!" you'd curse out your friend later. in all fairness, you never told jace about patrick. in fact, you didn't really talk about your love life with your friends. you kept it under wraps, especially since it's gone poorly.

"what do you want?" you already knew. but you wanted to hear it from his mouth.

"well...i'm in town. i thought we could reconnect." you notice that he's picking at his fingers. similar to how art did. even in adulthood after they were separated, they still mirrored each other's movements, had each other's habits.

"fuck off patrick. i'm not interested in being your mutual connection." you're ready to close the door.

"wait, wait!" he takes half a step forward, putting his hand on your door. he looks at you, his eyes soft. pleading.

patrick contemplates if he should just get on his knees and beg. he glances away for a second, taking in the clean look of the apartment building you lived in. his tongue licks his bottom lip and he rubs his face with his hand.

"i...i need a place to stay."

"look for some rando on tinder then."

"please. (y/n)." his voice is soft.

you hated that you had a soft spot for patrick zweig.

as much as you didn't like him, you missed the electricity of his kiss, his brash behavior, and the softness of his aftercare. he was surprisingly very good at it.

you also weren't one to turn someone away if they needed care.

patrick takes a step back when you close the door. but he hears you moving the chain lock and the door fully opens. "get inside."

"you're a lifesaver." he grabs his bags and steps into your apartment, removing his shoes as to not track dirt further into your home.

you lock the door once again. "you look like garbage. go take a shower."

patrick didn't like doing what he was told. but this was your home. "alright."

"and when was the last time you ate?" he takes too long to respond. "just shower."

"alright, alright."

when patrick emerges from the shower, he finds a pair of silk pajamas folded neatly in your bedroom. he makes sure he's completely dry and moisturized before putting on his underwear and the pajamas.

he walks out of the bedroom and his eyes first go to the tv. he lets out a small laugh seeing a slug bite a man. the movie quality was clearly bad.

and then there you are in the kitchen, making pancakes and a strawberry sauce to go with it. as well as two mugs with steam coming out of them.

"a homecooked meal? how generous."

"shut up. i was getting hungry." it was cute when you tried to brush him off.

he walks over and picks up the box. "trader joe's strawberries and creme pancake and waffle mix. with sweetened dried strawberry and white chocolatey chips." he sets the box down.

"it's pretty good, actually." you hand him one of the mugs. he takes in and breathes in the smell. it's lemony and sweet. "hope some citron tea is good with you."

"it's perfect, actually." he leans against the counter, taking a careful sip. "so what are you watching?"

"slugs. it's a movie from 1988."

"you've always liked bad horror movies."

"well...seems i have a taste for...b tier things."

"what's that supposed to mean?" he looks at you, watching the way you work.

"i don't think you need me to spell it out." you flip the pancake with ease before turning off the stove.

"think you've been spending too much time up art's ass."

"well if i wasn't up art's ass, then you wouldn't be here, would you? you'd probably be sleeping in your car right now. or crashing at some poor tinder date's place." you pour the sauce into a separate bowl.

he couldn't deny that. art and tashi put food on your table, a roof over your head, paid for your bills. you had no choice but to be up their asses.

the two of you eat in silence. patrick wants to say something, but your attention is more focused on the movie. somehow you're able to eat while watching two teenagers get eaten alive by slugs. complete with ooey gooey 80s special effects.

he does his best to help you clean up, but you swat his hand away when he tries. so he settles for just watching you clean up. you were always territorial in the kitchen, preferring to do things a certain way and keep things in a specific order. he could see just why you got along well with tashi and art. your discipline matched theirs.

and he had no discipline.

when you're done, you wash your hands then place the pod in the little compartment in the dishwasher, making sure it was closed all the way. you close the dishwasher and turned the dial to the second setting, hearing it lock into place.

"you'll be sleeping on the couch. i'll set things up after the movie is done." you say, walking over and sitting back down. you grab your blanket and lay it over your lap and legs.

patrick looks at how cozy you are. and for a second, he thinks about just how cozy life with you could be. money, cooked meals, a warm bed. a publicist that can get him back on track to greatness.

he sits down on the couch, leaning back into the cushions. he's close to you. you have no doubt that he sat there on purpose.

"so what is this movie even about?"

"slugs eating people, duh." your eyes don't leave the tv screen.

patrick notices the way you slightly lean forward during the scene. the man is eating dinner and he's got a raging headache. he manages to stop his nose from bleeding in the bathroom. then when he takes a sip of his drink, his nose bleeds again into the drink. he cries out, holding his head. and then his eyes pop. blood splatters everywhere. thin worms emerge and wriggle around from his socket. his body falls to the ground.

"i love this scene so much."

"really? i couldn't tell." he says sarcastically.

"it's a good scene." you lean back. "not that you would know. you have terrible taste in movies."

"hey, hey. do not insult my taste in movies. you're the one watching b tier horror movies. and you're the one who has a taste for the shittier things in life."

"yeah? like you."

patrick leans forward, nearly pressing you against the couch cushions. "that's not what i interpreted last time."

"last time was a moment of weakness." you look at him. "i was craving something fast and easy. that's what you are patrick. fast food."

his lips curl into a smirk.

was he getting off to that?

"and you can't help but come back for more~"

your eyes glance down at his lips. and even in baggy silk pajamas, he looked good.

unfortunately, patrick zweig was hot.

"go fuck yourself." you cup his face with both of your hands and slam your lips on his.

patrick kisses back with just as much fervor, gripping onto your waist and pulling you on top of him. he lays down on the couch, groaning when he feels you grind your crotch against his. "fuck!" he groans. you always knew how to turn him on.

your fingers trail down to start unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his chest. your hands feel his muscles. "i hate that you're so fucking hot." you groan as you roughly kiss down his neck and to his chest.

"yeah, yeah. you can't stand me. and yet." patrick's hands go to your ass and he digs his fingers into the plush skin. hard. you can't help but let out a moan at the sensation, shivers of pleasure running up your spine.

he turns his head to give you more access, his eyes landing on the tv. "you mind if we...uh, pause? or something?"

"what? don't wanna watch slugs eat people while we fuck? we've arguably had worse movies on in the background." your tongue darts out, gliding along the skin of his collarbone. patrick shivers beneath you.

"(y/n), please." he moans. "don't make me beg."

"what if i want to make you beg?" your hand trails down, rubbing him through his pants and boxers. he gasps, mouth wide open. "you're always so cute when you beg."

"s-shit! (y/n)!" he moans.

he moans so cutely that you can't help yourself.

"alright. fine." you grab the remote and pause the movie, tossing it back onto the coffee table. "now where were we?"

[zweiginator]

art coming into the picture in the actor!patrick au omg i need the drama the angst the jealousy

also picturing 20s art and 30s patrick together does something to me like yes give it to me please

because im thinking that patrick got into acting young. he was never a child actor, but he lived around hollywood and there were plenty of talent scouts looking around for promising young actors. and there patrick was. he was handsome and so ready to work, work, work.

and it felt like one day he was a nobody and the next day his name had the magic stamp of approval and he couldn't go anywhere without the flashing white lights of paparazzi burning the backs of his retinas. and this was what he always wanted--but he could still miss his old life, right?

patrick was always stuck in a loop. a yo-yo of him wanting to crawl into a hole and be a hermit, and then wanting more and more attention as soon as a hot new piece of meat was thrown into the ring of hollywood. hence the scandals, and the homewrecking and the sex tapes.

patrick also feared that his youth was fleeting--well, because it was. he wasn't twenty anymore. the young, lithe boy who took any role that was offered to him, his agent saying he would be stupid to pass anything up at this point in his career.

it's how he found himself sexualized in movies. it's how patrick zweig became a name that subconsciously elicited a visceral, almost taboo connotation. movies where you had to cover your kids' eyes when they came into the room. patrick zweig was a sex symbol.

so maybe he envied you. the novelty of your career. you're only in your early twenties and your eyes still twinkle under the oppressive set lights. you're still surprised when people want your autograph.

a part of patrick wishes that you would have a big scandal. that what had come out about you and him would've gained more traction. but it only added to his growing reputation. it made people pity you, hoping you would come out of this film unscathed by patrick's venomous sting.

and patrick shouldn't want you; he didn't want you. until he saw you talking to the director's assistant. blond and a little scrawny but strong where it mattered. with nice curls and a charming smile that made older women want to pinch his cheeks and fuck him all the same.

art is the same age as you, born in the same year. patrick has only spoken to him a few times when he was giving art his coffee order. asked him if he could pick up his dry cleaning down the street.

art is organized and on time. and he obviously has a crush on you. who wouldn't? but patrick has surpassed the age of crushes and now he feels like a fucking creep watching you and art giggle, your knees knocking against each other as you face each other in flimsy lawn chairs.

patrick tries not to ruminate about it. about how fucked up it is that he didn't want you when he could've had you, but now that you're out of reach he feels like he missed the train and the next stop is hours away.

he thinks maybe you and art didn't actually hit it off as well as he originally thought that day. but a week later and there you both are, closer this time. you share a sandwich and wipe some mustard from art's lip. and you don't notice patrick lurking against your trailer.

it feels almost evil when after the awful day he's had, he goes out to a bar, wearing a ball cap and dark clothes. he gets two drinks and sips on them slowly in the corner. art and you walk in and fifteen minutes you walk out into the alley and patrick can't help but follow you. he's fucking magnetized to you.

art has you pressed against the side of the building, his hands resting on your ass as his tongue pries into your mouth and patrick is already unreasonably angry. and then he hears the softest mewl of your voice, moaning art's name, when only a few weeks ago you were sat in his lap and these roles were all fucking reversed.

your hands tangle into art's hair and patrick clears his throat. art wipes your lipstick from his mouth but red is still peppered on his neck and you both look at patrick like deers in headlights.

[artdcnaldson]

ok ok ok so i have a thought for pats sister au, i mentioned it a while ago cuz someone was talking about something similar

this isnt like that smutty and slutty, but i need them to also just be a little bit happy. and as much as i love love love mean art, i do need him to be a little bit sweet to her now

but im thinking now that he's like fucking her at every chance he gets, that means hes spending a lot of time with her in general. including parties!!!! they start going together instead of just leaving together. not officially or anything because it would undoubtedly get back to pat, so they're just going with a few mutual friends and pretend its a group thing. its also easier for art to pretend like he doesnt just want to be with you and only you. maybe this party is at a sorority instead of a frat, so art lets his guard down a little. there arent as many guys who art knows, meaning even less guys who might happen to know patrick. and hes not too concerned with all the girls considering girl code or whatever.

so he lets himself party more than he usually would, lets himself drink that extra drink (truthfully a few extra) and stand just that bit closer to her (very much closer, practically leaning against her), he even dances with her, something he's never done with a girl. they lean in close when theyre talking, anyone who didnt know them would assume they were a couple, or at least well on their way to becoming one. TIHI!!!

its a pretty rowdy party, art is shocked he thought the frat parties got out of hand but this was wild. before either of them realize it, theyre both wasted, having the time of their lives, but definitely drunk. their friends have started heading home, but they decide to stick around and keep the party going. his arm is around her, hand on her waist slowly but surely wandering down to rest on her ass, accompanied by the occasional squeeze just to make her fidget. hes letting her get close to him. its nothing too suspicious though, no kissing or outright sexual touch, with the right words it could be explained away as friendly, in case patrick should hear about it.

BUT art is drunk, and drunk stanford art is a party boy, i believe this in my heart and core. he is getting reckless, forgetting about patricj and that he's supposed to keep discreet. he is doing shots, hes making her do shots, hes making any- and everyone do shots with him. and im thinking its one of, or both of, 2 things.

hes taking a shot and then spitting into pats sisters mouth

i see this happening like spontaneously, maybe there's only one shot left in the bottle and art has the genius idea that you'll just share it. she doesnt get what he means but he'll just show her. takes the shot, leaves it in this mouth, grabs her jaw and brings her real close to him. she thinks hes going to kiss her, but he pries her mouth open instead, tilts her head back, and spits the shitty liquor right into her mouth. hand tight around her jaw to keep her in place, eyes on hers, just like when he spits in her mouth fr

OR/and later in the evening

2. tequila body shots

this i see happening as just a sudden idea art has. and hes insisting its a great idea, and he'll even let her start so it doesnt seem like hes just trying to get her naked. so he lays on like a sticky, honestly downright nasty, bartop. he takes off his shirt and ugh he just looks so fucking good. pats sister is getting so possessive with all these girls around ogling at her man lol, shes all too eager to mark her territory. so the way weve always done it where i live is tequila poured in the belly button, salt in a line up the chest and lime in their mouth so you have to kiss them to get it. ive learnt from going to international school that thats apparently not universal? let me know about that cuz confusing? how else?

anyway. she takes the shot off of him, taking her time lick up his chest and even longer to get the lime from between his lips. its not like people are really looking at them, but even if they were those two are too drunk to notice or care. when its her turn hes really making a show of it, gets her to take her shirt off, but lets her keep the bra (its practically see-through with all the lace anyway), but he insists that she has to unbutton her jeans because he also wants salt before the shot or whatever. hes making something up, he just wants to see what panties shes wearing and see if he can smell her sweet pussy. he knows she wet, he can tell. hes just as bad as her, if not worse.

then when the party is ending they're definitely going back together, theyre probably too drunk to even try to have sex. just sloppy and stumbling everywhere. they end up passing out in arts bed together, he only just managed to get them both into some of his clothes and decent for bed, boxers for him and just a shirt and panties for her. in the morning they wake up cuddled close. its the first time theyve slept in the same bed, the first time theyve cuddled, its the first time theyve slept in the same room since art first took her virginity. and now they'd spent the night together without having sex at all. it kind of changes things for them... but not too much :)

-🐞

GODDDDD THIS HAS LIVED SOOO RENT FREE. I'm fucking dead it's too beautiful, too perfect. Also body shots are The Same for me as well so ur so valid <3

You're surprised when the invite comes through your phone— when Art asks for you to come with him to a house party hosted by some sorority girl in one of his classes. He heard about it, heard that they can be fun, wants to see you there.

And, god, you pretty yourself up so much for it— a skimpy little tank top that he can see your bra through, a tiny little denim skirt, sweet, sparkly makeup that catches in the fucking strobe lights set up around the living room. You’re nursing a cocktail of pink lemonade and vodka, leaning against his side as he downs another fucking glass of jungle juice. He’s definitely on the wrong side of drunk, or else he wouldn’t be all over you the way he is.

And you’re fucking living for it, the way he keeps one hand slung around your waist, tugs you closer against him so you’re practically one fucking entity. He puts a fucking glowing test tube shot to your lips, eyes lighting up as you eagerly swallow it down. He could spit directly onto your tongue, in front of everyone and you’d fucking let him.

So he does. He downs a tequila shot, grabs your chin and you’re all wide eyed and eager as you look up at him. He spits it into your open mouth and you swallow it down, nose wrinkling at the taste. You like sweet things— fancy champagne, mixed drinks that are mostly juice. But you smile at him once you’ve swallowed down the tequila, giggling and buzzy.

But auuhghghgh body shots :((( he’s such a lecherous little perv, he gets off on the attention from you so bad. Wants everyone to see how bad you want him, how possessive and needy. Sucking the liquor from his naval, tongue flat as you lick up the line of salt you’d carefully tapped up his torso. He watches how your lashes flutter as you lick along his skin, the salt course on your tongue complimenting the sweaty taste of his skin. Maybe you linger there a little longer than what’s comfortable for anyone else watching. You take the lime from his mouth biting down so you can suck the juices from it.

It’s a little clumsy— you’ve never done one before, but you’d practically bouncing on your feet when you ask him to do one from you. He practically drops you on the table, fumbles his way to pulling off your shirt, tosses it somewhere neither of you will ever fucking see again.

He lines up the salt between your tits, in the pretty valley between the pink lace. You squirm when he pours the tequila into your belly button, he watches it slosh and spill as the muscles of your abdomen tremble. You bite your lip as he unbuttons your skirt, tugs it down just until he sees the pretty lacy pink of your panties, a perfect match to your bra.

God, you wanted him to fuck you so bad— you were practically wearing a sign around your neck that said it. He taps out a line of salt, licks from the waistband of your panties up to your naval, and sucks the liquor from it. His tongue laves at you— a long line between your belly button up to the hollow of your throat.

The rest of the party falls away— it’s just you and Art and you’re honestly pretty convinced he’s going to just fuck you on the table— stake his claim, lick into your mouth until all you know is salt and tequila and citrus and spit.

He bites into the lime and you taste the juice as it sprays into his mouth and drips back onto yours.

You hear people, absently, far in the back of your mind. You’re so fucking gone— you’re embarrassing yourselves, both of you. Art tugs his shirt over your head after the mindless, three-second search for your tank top comes back fruitless.

“Wanna go home?” He asks, his breath hot and his words clumsy against the shell of your ear. Home. Yeah, his dorm pretty much is home to you at this point. His hand’s in your back pocket and you’re waving a tipsy goodbye to your friends, clinging onto Art as you start the trek back to the dorms.

He presses you against a tree halfway back, kisses you hot and urgent and needy. Then again in the stairway up to his room— pins you against a set of windows, smiling and laughing against your mouth as some unfortunate soul catches him with his fingers between your thighs.

By the time you get back to his dorm, you’re basically buzzing with need, want, giddiness, affection. Art can’t get hard because he’s so fucked up, ends up giggling about it against your shoulder, mouthing against your salty, sweaty skin with wet, open-mouthed kisses. He collapses into the bed, tugs you against his side and falls asleep with his face buried in your hair and warm, possessive hands on your body.

You’re both asleep in minutes.

[insanely-lovely-and-random]

Alrightyy saw Challengers for numero uno tonight and these are some thoughts/things that really got me the second time round!

*Thess are just my opinions the film can be read however anyone else wants

Okay so hear me out.. Tashi is such a dom, Art is such a sub and Patrick is such a switch and oooh it got me how at the beginning it felt like he was Arts dom, then he finds this girl he thinks is fantastic and maybe he thinks she could be the glue to bring him and Art and her all together BUT then it totally fricken backfires and instead he loses both. Art the little puppy he is starts wagging his tail in Zendayas direction and next thing ya know he's got a new owner and Patricks a thing of the past much to his palable distress. I mean christ boyos living in his car and starving, boys a mess since his lost his dom and sub poor boyo, so now various things I noticed some of which I feel back up my argument haha

Gosh theres so many little moments, Patricks thing for Art seems so obvious yet Art seems totally clueless.

1) Patrick is defos bi, not just because he just so is but also cause he matches with a guy on his dating app during his swiping.

2) The doubles match they play in the past? Gosh they're all over eachother! And Pats clearly in charge of that relationship and Art seems totally cool with that (for then anyways..)

3) When him and Art are watching Tashis game at the vert beginning Patrick grabs Arts leg in exhilaration. I mean he always seems to be touching or in the space of his boy for christs sake.

4) When Tashi mentions the fact Arts going to Stamford Patrick noticeably makes a face, you could say its because shes paying attention to Art instead of him or that hes upset because shes going to college instead of going profesh BUT I really didnt read it that way. To me it looked like he was upset Art was going to college, they've been together for years after all and now their splitting up, poor boyo.

5) When Zendaya asks if theres anything going on between then, Art laughs and says no BUT Patrick??? Science and he looks down, hell he wishes there was summat.

6) He taught Art to jerk off. Fucking hell.

7) There kiss man, all three of then and then just Art and Pat, just soo much chemistry.

8) When he reveals he slwpt with Zendaya to Art, and Arts smile drops. I think he's heartbroke at him sleeping with the girl he likes but I also see it as pain at being left out. These two people he's entwined with and now he's outside looking in. I also think If Patrick had seen that reaction he'd have seen a looot sooner that his relationship with Tashi might backfire greatly.

9) Patrick vsiting Stamford, first person he goes to see, his girlfriend maybe..? NOPE hes too busy chasing Art around the tennis court 😭

10) There's a ton of hot moments in this film. And the hottest? To me? That bloody stool grab with his foot. He wants Art close, he always bloody does! And the churros christ! And once again showing Art who's top so to speak, eating his churro, and telling him hes proud of his snakey behaviour. And that it makes his relationship with Zendaya hotter (I bloody bet it does) He never ever seems to show jealousy about Arts feelings for Zendaya, he points out thay he doesn't see him as competition to her not long after and I BET his doesn't. Cause I think he'd love it if Art was with him and Zendaya.

11) My God this bit gets be cause it gets echoed later. Him and Zendaya are making out and this girl who he's with and cares about is just talking bout his tennis game. And tbf what does he say?? "Weren't you gonna tell me bout Art" hells bells could you be more obvious?? And then the fight, he asks her if she's talking about tennis and her reply "I'm always talking about tennis" and I mention this cause it's gonna be relevant later.

12) The injury happens and everyone loses something. Zendaya has lost her career and ability to play tennis to her full potential. Art loses his best friend and Poor pathetic Patrick lost his bestfriend(and secret love) and his actual girlfriend all in one day!

From here on I cant guarantee my numbered points are in timeline order as the timline stated getting more out of sequence🤣

13) Zendaya and Art in the diner and after hearing Art and Pat dont talk no more saying she's a homewrecker after all. And what does Art say?? Zip. Nada. No denial just silence.

14) Okay lets talk that sauna scene. It was gloriously tragic. Patrick is clearly unaware why Art is THAT hostile towards him. I mean thinking of it from his point of view he'd have more reason to be angry considering the snakey girlfriend behaviour. But he never is angry at Art, not once no matter what he did. Of course we then discover Art is SO pissed cause he knows about Atlanta. Christ I bet pur stupid idiot boy Patrick thinks hes just being cleverly smug with that "when we were teenagers" line but idiot boyo your rubbing salt in the wounds 😭

15) still about the sauna, the naked trying to be top dog like old times but no no no, not anymore. Arts not his to be in charge of anymore. And the camera shows Art as higher while Patrick slouches nearby. Patrick asks him when he's so mad but doesn't get an answer. This scene was tragic to me, Patrick just seems hurt by Arts attitude. Art points out that they're no longer peers and I love this because thats the difference between the Zendaya/boys relationship and Arts and Pats. Pat may have been the dom so to speak with Art but he still saw them as peers. Zendaya doesn't. Thats the main difference in their relationships. Respect.

16) One of my fave damn parts of dialogue in the movie. (I really can't remember exact phrasing but this is how I rememeber it) Art is so sus of Pat, Pat asks him if he misses it, Art says he doesnt. And when Pat says he wasn't talking about tennis, Art says "Your always talking to me about tennis" and oof the punch to my gut that was. And it seemed to Patricks too! His face, this poor boy has twice been talking to the people he cares about, abou their relationship and they just say their talking about tennis, he cant catch a break😭

17) Pats reaction to Zendaya asking him to throw the game, is he offended for himself? Nopeee he's mad that she'd do that to Art. He says something along the lines of fucking him was one thing but to have Arts victory be a lie?? Gross, too far, too much of a betrayal.

18) For the third time, having just fucked Zendaya in the car and she just immediately brings up him throwing the match, like crimeny man this boy is probs sick of this game getting in the way of his relationships haha

19) Ooh that match point is glorious glorious cinema my friends. Patrick is so interesting in this whole match. Him deliberating on if he's gonna tell Art? So juicy and the way he did was fucking hilarious. That unspoken signal? Beauty.

20) Arts reaction? Wow oh wowww. The lad went through the five fricken stages of grief! The denial "fuck off!" the rage, throwing his racket, the bargaining, looking at Zendaya as if to say its not true (when she has no fucking clue what just happened). The depression, those sad sweaty tears 🥲 and then? That gorgeous smile, that acceptance. I think he felt catharsis, his marraige was clearly dysfunctional at this point and maybe knowing she cheated, knowing she'd threatened to leave if he lost, maybe that helped him let go of it. Ripped off the bandage, turned off life support, finally shake the pedestal he'd put his wife on( he compared her to jesus for christs sake). He made it through to the otherside and Patrick was there waiting for him with open arms ()iterally lol)

21) When Pat sees Arts smile? His own blossoms, clearly in relief and exaltation. I truly think he told him not to throw his game but to spur Art on. To finally unlock his potential. And to get the old Art he knew back and it bloody worked. That final back and forth, the pure energy, those sexual grunts all building up to a crescendo of a climax. Hooo boy

22) That goddamn brilliant leap in the air. Art is freed and flying, and Patrick doesn't hesitate he flings his racket to the floor because the thing that mattered to him most was never tennis. And he catches his boy with arms wide and then that embrace. They have finally come back together. It was beautiful. What does losing the match matter to Pat when he finally has his arms all over Art again just like he did in the beginning. We have come full circle.

Hahaha this is purely my own read into the movie and obvs mostly about the Patrick character and how I saw his actions. Now a few little bonus notes I noticed.

Nearly everything the boys eat/drink seems phallic, hotdogs, bananas, churros, even those drink bottles and cigarettes. Boyos are obsessed!

Zendaya on the rock at the beach was very little mermaid. Also in that scene when she said she wouldn't wanna get between em. Art said they didn't love together but Pat says "It's an open relationship" hecks you too obvious boy.

This movies so chock full of foreshadowing too, the story about Cat who got injured a week later. Patrick at Tashis party saying she'd have deals and a foundation which she does but via her relationship with Art instead just really cool script tbh

(Will probs add more when I remember em/see it for third time cause I am planning on that🤣🤣)