#tashi ounce

[vivi-scera]

just watched challengers. usual mid guadagnino movie

[222col]

sugardaddy!art is completely devoted to you, as are you to him, until a dm from patrick lights up your phone late one night | 18+

it was tashi who introduced you two, at some adidas party. she'd met with you the day before, pitching the idea of forming some kind of relationship with her husband. she admitted that she knew he needed more than her, he needed intimacy, attention, devotion. things she wasn't capable of giving, her focus was on his tennis and recovery. art was attractive, and successful, you were considering. tashi explained that in return for your devotion to her husband, the two of you would supply you with anything you wanted. "so, i'd be his sugarbaby?" you questioned her. she simply shook her head. "you'd look after his needs, while we looked after yours."

she introduced you to her husband, "this is the girl we talked about." he had followed you on instagram the night before, so you imagined tashi had shown it to him after your conversation. she leaves the two of you alone. you're younger than him, much smaller in frame, you can feel the power he has over you. but he strokes your arm lightly, telling you he can't wait to get to know you better.

art falls head over heels for you, you see him nearly every day. always giving him every ounce of attention he craves. it's not hard, he's beautiful, funny, always doting on you, complimenting everything about you. he fucks you like the world stops moving once he's inside you. you're like oxygen to him, he can't really breath until he's with you. art and tashi sleep in separate rooms, as months go by, you start staying over. occasionally bumping into tashi the next morning, she always greets you with a smile and thanks you for looking after her husband. the dynamic is strange, but it works.

art kept you very private, away from his fast paced life in tennis. he followed your instagram, sure, but you were a sportswear model. who's to suspect anything strange about a professional tennis player following a sportswear model. it's a year into you and art's relationship that patrick follows you on instagram. you knew he and patrick had patched up their friendship, since they played each other in a challenger somewhere in new york, some nine months ago. but still, you can't imagine art ever mentioning you to anyone other than his wife. one, for the sake of his public image, but two, he'd never want to share you. he always asks you if you go on dates in your time away from him, but always reassuring him that you don't. "i'm yours art, i don't want anyone else."

stalking patrick's instagram, alone in your apartment, payed for by art, you see how much he's turned his life around since playing in that new york challenger. art had mentioned that patrick wasn't reaching his full potential while they weren't on speaking terms. but now he's playing in big tournaments, winning them and earning his reputation back. that's obvious by his instagram, he's travelling the world, in style. you see the notification of him liking one of your posts, as you swipe through his. no, this is bad, you think. another notification, a message this time. shit. you have to tell art. does he already know? has he told patrick about the relationship you share? it's late, you know art has a match tomorrow, you decide not to call him.

patrick's messages are flirty, you can't work out what he knows, if he knows. you flirt back. you know it's wrong, but you do it. you think about art's pout as you tell him you're flirting with his best friend when you're sworn to him. you wipe that thought from your brain, reading the messages patrick is sending you. he's in your city for a tournament, you question how he knows what city you live in, it's in your bio, he responds. oh, yeah.

what are you doing right now?

fuck. fuck. shit. it's 10pm, you're still dolled up from the dinner art took you to. you look back at your phone.

wanna meet me for a drink? there's a nice bar at my hotel.

he sends you the address, it's only two blocks from your apartment. your feet are moving you off the couch, discarding of your robe, the dress art instructed you to wear to dinner still gowns your body.

be there in 15.

why the fuck did you do that, you think, reapplying your lipstick. your mind is running a mile a minute. you slip your heels back on, grabbing your handbag and locking your apartment door behind you. art. patrick. art. fuck, you can't stop thinking about art. you still don't know if patrick knows, but you can't ask because then he'll definitely know. you haven't been with anyone else since the day you met art, it would break him knowing you're going for drinks with another man. let alone with patrick. you collect yourself as you arrive outside the hotel, you'd been here with art. you didn't recognise the name, art always books the rooms. you stayed here with him the night before he signed the lease to your apartment.

walking towards the bar, you remember the way, patrick is perched on the end of the bar. he smirks when he sees you, you smile and walk over to him. standing to greet you, he kisses your cheek, "glad you could join me, i was getting lonely." he's in a white button down and jeans. "glad i could be of service then." you flirt, sitting on the stool next to his. your knees touching his as he orders you a glass of wine. "there's no way you got this dolled up in 15 minutes, sweetheart," the bartender places your wine down next to you. taking a sip and giggling. "no, of course, i'd only been home an hour when you messaged me, i went out to dinner and hadn't gotten changed yet." patrick is leaning towards you, like he's trying to read you.

"you're telling me, you went on a date, came home, then came to meet me? that's hot." patrick laughs into his beer. "no, no, it wasn't a date," you lie, art would cry if he heard you say that. "it was just dinner with a friend." patrick doesn't really believe you, but he doesn't push. "so, you're in town for the tennis tournament?" you question, sipping your wine. "yeah, i play my first game the day after tomorrow." you know it's the same tournament art is playing in. "i was actually going to stay at a friends place who lives near by, but boy am i glad i didn't now." his hand lands on your exposed thigh. fuck, he must mean art. you don't even realise you're leaning in closer to patrick. "me too," he just smiles at you, drawing circles on your skin.

you come to the conclusion that he doesn't know a thing about your relationship with art, the most he could know was that art followed your instagram, he will have seen when he followed you himself. you don't know how it happens, but after a few more glasses of wine and flirting, patrick's lips crash onto yours. they're not as soft as art's, he doesn't have the same respect for you to wait for you to open your mouth to push his tongue in. his hand is moving further up your thigh, pulling away from the kiss. "what'd say? wanna fuck a famous tennis star?" he whispers in your ear, he's so fucking arrogant. another famous tennis star, you think. you can't resist him, he's so different to art. art cares so deeply for you, touches you so softly, asks if you're okay. patrick is cocky, only sees you as a girl to add to his list. you can't say no, you know you should but you can't. all you can do is look up at him through your lashes and nod.

he fucks you from behind, ripping your dress off your body as he pounds into you. you'll feel guilty about that tomorrow, art loved that dress. he spanks you repeatedly, he doesn't care that it hurts, he just cares about getting himself off. he flips you over, holding your ankles and pushing your legs close to your head as he keeps fucking you. your fresh set of nails dig into the skin of his thighs, nails moving to his back once he drops your legs down. you scratch the length of his spine, he winces with a smile on his face when he realises you've drawn blood. he spits in your mouth, slaps your face, its animalistic. he pulls out and finishes all over your stomach, he doesn't care that you didn't finish. he collapses beside you, instinctively you start kissing and caressing the marks you left on his body. kissing every bite mark and scratch you gave him. he softens, breathing gently as he strokes you hair. "no one's ever looked after me like this," he states, sitting up to drink the water your holding for him. you simply kiss his forehead in response, his heart is nearly beating out his chest at the sweet way you're looking after him, after just fucking the life out of you without giving a single fuck. you pull the blanket up over his naked body, getting out of bed to gather your belongings. "stay with me?" he pleads, you can't resist.

you wake up in patrick's arms, shit. shit. shit. it's 9am, you check your phone, a text from art, two hours ago.

good morning, baby. hope you slept well, off to my morning training session before the match later today. call you when i can xx

you turn around and look at patrick, fast asleep. you reply quickly to art.

good morning, my love. have a good session, already can't wait to hear ur voice <3

you're not lying. you hear his voice everyday, it's part of your routine. you put your phone on the nightstand as you start getting out of bed. "please don't leave just yet," patrick mumbles in his morning voice, holding out a hand for you. "let me just use the bathroom real quick." you respond. you smooth out your hair in the mirror, attempting to clean up your make up with only your finger, slipping into a robe on the back of the bathroom door. you return to patrick, sitting on the edge of the bed as he sits up now, leaning against the headboard. "i have a proposition for you," you tilt your head at his words. "i need you in my life, i need your body, your kindness," he begins. oh no. "i was thinking, if you were to look after me and my needs, i could do the same for you." you know exactly what he means, you've heard it before. your phone lights up, your ringtone playing. 'A.D' flashes across the screen. fuck.

[buuuuuuuu3]

Art Donaldson it’s a very touchy person, he was all over the other 2 main characters almost the whole movie, he craves that physical touch more than anything. We are shown the huge amount of contrast that his relationship not only with touch but what that touch entails with both of his love interest means. He doesn’t need to ask for Patrick to touch him, they’re all over each other every time we see them in the past timeline, they understand each other in a way that doesn’t have to be put into words, they both touch each other without an ounce of doubt, they’re both equals, they know what place the other holds in each others space and mind, they don’t have to plead for it because it’s already there reassuring and available. With Tashi is all about the want and the crave, this necessity that he also can’t put into words but in a way that is completely different and undiscovered, nothing is reassured, all is a mystery, everything could change in one second, is exciting and frightening, he has to ask for her to touch him, they’re not equals in his mind, he knows how much this means to him and at the same time doesn’t know what gravity this thing that is so amazing and significant for him holds in her mind, she’s untouchable in every aspect of their lives and at every stage too.

At the end in the sauna I think Art for Patrick has become what Tashi is for Art, he cannot touch him anymore, they don’t understand each other in the way they once did, it’s not reassuring, they’re not comfortable with each others proximity, is exciting and frightening to talk to him again but they’re not equals anymore, he has become literally nothing for his best friend, Art is untouchable in every way Patrick craves.

[artydonsgf]

If you're alright with NSFW prompts, can you think of any kinks the three might have?

hi anon! thank you sm for your request<3 honestly, this account has challenged me so much because i’ve never really written nsfw stuff before. it’s really fun actually! enjoy nsfw headcanons with art, tashi, and patrick

Art Donaldson

- completely submissive in bed

- he likes when you’re rough with him

- hair pulling, biting, nails digging into his back

- needy as fuck, any time you start to slow down, he’s kissing you n begging you to keep going

- loves praise, he’ll do anything to get it

- quick to try new things if you want to

- total begger

- likes being overstimulated

- the idea of being completely overwhelmed by you is so hot to him

- really likes it when you blindfold him

- your touch becomes a million times more exciting when he has no idea where it’s going to come from

- he also likes it when he’s slightly restricted

- not too much because grabbing your hips when you’re on top of him is his favorite thing

- always on the bottom, you have total control

- king of whimpering and moaning and begging (a/n: i need him)

- soft breathy whispers telling you that you’re so beautiful, you make him feel so good, etc

- begs to touch you, he lowkey can’t believe that you’re his

- asks for consent in the most slutty desperate voice ever (it’s very hot)

- desperate, needy, and pathetic is the best way to describe him in bed

- great at aftercare, it’s him showering you in kisses thanking you for rocking his world

- seriously, he’s so gentle and sweet and he always makes you food after

Tashi Duncan

- likes watching you on your knees

- any position where you’re under her does it for her

- likes it when you suck her fingers

- loves when you’re loud

- likes to have sex in non-traditional places

- the car, the shower, downstairs, kitchen, etc

- doesn’t want to share you with anyone but sometimes she wonders what it would be like watching you fuck someone else

- high sex drive

- i mean come on, you’re with the most competitive n passionate woman in the world, did you think that wasn’t gonna translate into bed?

- doesn’t let up even in bed, she makes you work for every ounce of pleasure you want

- you’re spoiled by her but that’s only once you work to get there

- obsessed with giving you hickies

- loves it when you dress up in pretty lingerie

- she slowly undresses you, kissing you everywhere as she goes

- loves buying you lingerie too

- aftercare is the best with her

- you guys shower together and softly whisper sweet words to one another

- you change the sheets together and settle into fresh sheets feeling nice and clean

Patrick Zweig

- total exhibitionist

- likes the thrill of almost being caught so you often find yourself with his hands down your pants in dark corners of parties

- likes being marked

- if he’s not walking away with a million hickies did yall really fuck?

- likes to go without a condom

- obviously with your consent and making sure you’re on birth control

- likes to come on your face when you give him blow jobs

- seeing you covered in his cum makes him hard all over again

- total brat, he does everything possible to rile you up

- he’s also a complete tease, he loves making you beg for him to keep touching you

- loudddd

- neighbors three doors down can hear his moaning

- he’s not even exaggerating either, bro just really can’t help himself when you’re fucking him

- likes it when you dress up in cute outfits

- he barely sees it because he’s so eager to rip it off but the brief moment he does look, he loves it

- aftercare is always sweet but pretty short because sex with you is like his version of melatonin

- besides staying awake for the general clean up, he’s normally out like a light afterwards

- even with quickies, he’s always falling asleep

- pussy so good you put his ass to bed🙏🏾

hiiii idk if this is that good, i spent so long reworking it cause i hated it. butttt i dont wanna keep anyone waiting so i hope you enjoyed<3

[poppy-metal]

no thoughts just day dreaming about college! infidelity! love triangle! artashrick ( i can't remember the ship name for all 3 idc idc ) listening slumber party by ashnikko. oh to go to some dive bar, do a shit ton of tequila shots ( as encouraged by patrick and tashi whilst they're dating ), smoking a joint patrick also pushed onto you in the alley behind said bar and choosing that song for your karaoke song after being peer pressured by patrick and tashi. ( the timelines of the song release and challengers do not match up i don't care ) everything seems wayyy too real when you accidentally glance at patrick whilst doing drunken karaoke a few too many times when the song talks about eating tashi on the mf couch and how her spit tastes like juicy fruit ( real lyrics for those not familiar with the song ) and all of a sudden art and patrick realize that despite how femme you are, you fucking LOVE pussy, especially tashi's

need her to to come up behind me and grind me against her like she's fucking me on the dance floor - patrick and art fucking vibrating in their seats - patrick is torn between joining and watching - he joins eventually when tashi throws him a look, and then you're between them - tashi at your back, patrick at your front.

giving poor art a show - three of the hottest people he knows, grinding like if there wasn't clothes between you, you'd all be inside eachother. he has to shift around and adjust his hard cock in his jeans.

thing is, it's not really cheating if patrick was aware the whole time - "you've been eating my girls pussy?" and there's not an ounce of anger in his voice, just heat. tashi is behind you anyway, and she's sliding her hands around your waist.

"someone has to." you tell him and his lips quirk.

"she eating yours?"

not yet, though she's expressed desire too. you focus on her in bed - because you fear how vulnerable you become when you're submissive. you don't want to grow attached to either of these people, not really. they're dangerous.

"she runs away whenever I try." tashi hooks her chin on your shoulder - her hands slide up your dress. "you should let me," she tells you, and patrick presses closer and you're trapped between them. patricks hard - you can feel him against your hip - and your lashes flutter. you tip your head back against tashis shoulder. "tonight." she adds.

"what about your boyfriend." you ask, breathless. you're forgetting why it's a bad idea to slip under their seductive pull.

said boyfriend noses along your throat - he's so tall, he has to bend down over you to do it. you feel warm all the way down to your toes when he does it. skimming along your skin.

"what about him?" tashi giggles. her lips nip your ear, she pulls the lobe between her teeth, tugs on it. her tongue is hot as it licks the outer shell. you shiver against her, your back arches right into patricks hard chest. "he's been wanting to watch."

"mm" he hums his assent. "you'd be hot as fuck together."

you think about it. you want too say yes. you feel the pull with them - you know it would be hot. you know you'd cum - and it would probably be transcendent. but you don't think you could remain in control. you barely have the upper hand when it's just you and tashi - and it's only because you put so much enthusiasm into making her cum on your tongue that she's too limp afterwards to try too hard to recuperate. it's that way on purpose. if it's patrick and tashi together though, two vs. one - so hot and intense and dominant.

"it'll be fun." tashi coos. "he could hold you open for me - you could finally let me at that little pussy you've been meaning to give me." god, her voice is so hot when it gets low like that. all feminine and soft - "I want to get my tongue on you."

you gasp - and you break free. hot and dizzy in the head. they let you go, part and then come back together easily. you don't have to glance back to know they're already skin to skin with eachother - kissing. and you think that's part of it. nothing is serious with them. it means nothing.

you rejoin art at the booth. he shifts nervously and you blink in suprise at the martini in front of you. you look at the boy across from you and he ducks his head. "you mentioned liking it, so i..."

"you ordered for me?" you ask, smiling.

he shrugs, glancing away. his face is flushed pink. you lean forward to sip at your drink, hiding your grin. he's looking out at the dance floor, probably out at patrick and tashi.

"they're all over eachother, huh." you stir your straw.

arts eyes float back to you. he flushes even more, if that's possible. it gets up to the tips of his ears. "you seemed to like it."

you shrug - "it was just dancing." you leave out their proposition to take you back to their place. you lean forward, enough that your tits nearly spill out of your dress and art eyes dart down, just like you wanted them too. he swallows. "do you want to dance with me, art?"

he does, you can tell. but he's a modest boy. patrick had warned you about his friend on your way to pick him up - 'he's a good boy.' he'd said. and tashi had grinned, twisting to look back at you. 'he wears a cross necklace. it's fucking adorable.'

he fumbles - "um." he tugs on his ear, awkward with it. eyes flitting between you and the dance floor. "im - I'm not very good at it."

you sit back. "that's okay." you tell him. you've decided you want something else, anyway. "you want to get a cab back?" you tilt your head. "they'll probably be out there for awhile."

art looks almost relieved. you have to bite back a giggle, considering your plans. "yeah," he says, and start to slide out of the booth. you think you really like his hair - you want to touch it. imagine gripping it later, seeing the blonde tuffs between your fingers. he pulls his wallet from his pocket and drops a few bills on the table. "do you think they'll mind....?"

"I doubt they'll notice."

you let art lead you out of the bar - you think being between patrick and tashi made you feel all out of sorts, out of control, out of your depth. art donaldson - he's cute - he's kind and sweet. corruptable, still. you'd have the control in your hands, definitely. you'd rock his world tonight - and put the other couple out of your mind.

it would work. totally.

[frnchgirls]

warnings: 18+, nsfw, long!!, dubcon, a lot of explicit and implied grossness, poly if you squint, finishing inside, early character death?

you met zombie!patrick during your compound's last looting trip. you and a few other younger, able-bodied members of your settlement went out to a pharmacy in search of medicine, and during the affair, the building was overrun by zombies. every member of the search team was presumably eaten, your best friend tashi and boyfriend art both killed in the frenzy. it devastated you. but you- you were alive; the sole survivor, having made it out with the medicine, no less, all thanks to patrick.

he spared you when he decided to smear your face and clothes with spoiled blood to mask your human scent from the horde, a strategic thought you never would have imagined the undead could even have. you're taken aback when after all is said and done, he seems to revert to a normal zombie state, communicating only with groans and grunts and an incoherent mumble every now and again. you can't lie and say that you're not at least a little afraid. he is a zombie, after all. but he's shown no signs of hostility, or signs of much of anything for that matter. and he did save your life, so why not keep him around?

the two of you are sitting in an abandoned house that's on the route from the pharmacy back to the compound, shoulder to shoulder on the bedroom floor as you crack open a can of fruit cocktail, your dinner for the night. you examine his face as you dig your fork into a syrup-soaked cherry. he's so pale, blue veins like spider webs crawling up from the base of his neck to his hollow cheeks. you can make out the faint remnants of freckles if you squint, and you can't help but wonder what he might have looked like when he was still alive. tan and healthy; handsome, even.

you have to hold your breath as you eat the bits of peach and pear from the aluminum can in your lap. patrick is filthy, and the stench of god knows what emanates off of him, filling the room. his milky, glazed over eyes stay locked on the opposite wall, bruised lips parting ever so slightly when he says, "hun- gry." you immediately swallow the food in your mouth, partly shocked and partly overjoyed at the fact that he was speaking to you; that you could understand him. now that you were thinking about it, it had been a while since he last ate. you couldn't blame him for voicing his needs.

"yeah, pat. i know. we'll find some brains for you as soon as we can. i promise." you reply, chipper tone covering up the fact that you truly have no idea how you'll be able to satiate him without hurting an innocent person. you take another bite of food, thinking of art and tashi, and his head snaps in your direction. "hun- gry." he repeats, practically throwing himself onto you, which in turn knocks the can right out of your hand, spilling the contents all over the carpeted floor. you let out a noise, a mix of a gasp and a groan erupting from the back of your throat all at once.

"that was my last ration, you stupid fuckin'- get off." you complain, using every ounce of your strength to try and shove him off of you, but it's no use. he would overpower you even if he didn't have a supernatural advantage. he paws at your tattered clothes, gripping the fabric with his fingers as he presses his cold lips to your neck. he inhales against the sensitive skin, other hand coming up to tug absentmindedly at a strand of your hair. what on earth is he doing?

"pre- tty." he hums, big nose nudging your pulse point, and your eyes widen as you thrash under his hold. you fail to hear him over the sound of your racing heart. "don't- don't kill me, please. you remember me, right? remember saving me?" you beg, but it's a shot in the dark. he hadn't seemed to understand the words you said before, so why would now be any different? you squeeze your eyes shut as he stands and lifts you to your feet in one fluid motion.

"need... pussy." patrick grumbles, brows furrowed in confusion. the words aren't really his. he knows that when images of you from the past flash in his mind, on your back with your hair splayed over a fluffy pillow. you giggle and blush at something he said- no, not him, someone else who was now a part of him. someone else whose memories were now his own. someone who wanted to fuck you. he wanted to fuck you.

"what?" you squeak, wondering if you heard him correctly. this had to have been some kind of sick dream fueled by your recent lack of sex, because there was no way a zombie wanted to get in your pants. it was unheard of, impossible even. the fuck was wrong with you, having deranged thoughts like this? you would be shunned by the compound if anyone found out what you were about to do. and what about art? you reach around to pinch yourself, but the movement is interrupted when patrick shoves you down onto the bed.

"feel you... now." he continues, jaw clenched as he tugs forcefully at the waistband of your jeans. the seams pop, which allows him to drag the ripped material down your legs, leaving you in nothing but your panties below the waist. "no, no, we can't- this isn't right-" you stammer, squeezing your thighs together and covering yourself with your hands. but patrick pushes them out of the way like it's nothing. his pupils seem to darken when his eyes land on the damp patch at the front of the pink fabric.

"why wet... then?" patrick teases with a fucking smirk, dimples and smile lines on full display. you shudder not only at the sight, but at the feeling of his cold fingers pressing against your clothed heat. there was something so chilling about his words and his mannerisms. they were all too intimate. he didn't feel like a zombie anymore, he felt like a man. "i'm not- it's not-" you lie through your teeth, panicking as you lean down once again to hide the space between your legs from his view.

he unbuttons the front of his jeans, shuffling them down his hairy thighs along with his boxers. you have to physically turn away when his cock springs free from its confines. fuck, it's as thicker than it is long with dark curly hair at the base. blue veins run along the shaft and his tip is as purple as his mouth. you can't do this. as horny and curious as you are, he'll split you apart. "oh- oh my god, patrick- no. no, no, no." you squeal, clamping a hand over your mouth as you clench around nothing.

patrick is unphased, gripping the backs of your thighs and hoisting your legs over his shoulders. "take... it." he groans, pushing past your panties and into your soaked folds. he throws his head back, exposing his pale neck as he bottoms out in you. you let out a guttural moan, the noise muffled by your palm. you could feel every throbbing inch of him, your wetness providing only the slightest amount of lubrication.

your back arches off the bed at the intrusion. it's so strange; the juxtaposition of his freezing hands on your skin and his sweltering cock deep in your cunt. "feel... good?" patrick asks, waiting a moment before pulling out then thrusting in again. you pout, partly because you don't know how to answer, and partly because you can't. it's hard to think about anything else other than the feeling of him dragging along your walls. you resort to an eager nod, cheeks flushing from embarrassment.

he smiles, nodding in acknowledgement before leaning over you to get a better angle. patrick folds you even harder into the mating press, your thighs trapped between both of your stomachs. his eyes cloud over again once he's adjusted, jaw slack as he thrusts in and out and in and out. "hun- gry..." he mewls, saliva pooling in his open mouth when his tip brushes against that spongy spot inside you.

patrick fights with himself, unsure where his appetite for your flesh ends and his newfound appetite for your pussy begins. having you milk his cock like this seems to appease him for now, the other voice in his head tells him so. but still, he can't help but feel a little guilty. he wonders how you'd taste, how it would feel to have your viscera sliding down his esophagus when he eats you. drool spills over his bottom lip like a waterfall, dribbling onto the sheets below you.

a few drops land on your cheek when he moves, and you recoil at the sticky feeling on your skin. you can't help but close your eyes, facing a conflict of your own. if you just think about art, it'll be okay, right? it's not wrong to get fucked by a zombie if you imagine it's your late boyfriend while you do it. god, you hope he would forgive you. if only you knew. "look... at me." patrick sputters, and when you do just that, his pupils are dark again. something about it makes you shiver. you've never seen a zombie who could do that before, and his words fill you with a strange sense of deja vu.

patrick wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, speeding up his thrusts as he presses his forehead against yours. the motion has you teetering on the edge, and your fingers reach out to clutch at his hoodie instinctively. he chuckles and questions, "you... close?" which you answer with another nod and a whimper of "yes." he seems to be in the same boat when he tells you, "me too... wanna be good for you. please- let me be useful and... breed this pussy."

you giggle.

your mouth flies open to let out a gasp, patrick's hand reaching down to rub circles against your clit. you know you've heard those words before; you've heard those words from art. there are myths that zombies can absorb thoughts and memories from brains they consume. what did he do? what the fuck did patrick do?

"oh god- you ate my boyfriend. you ate my fuckin' boyfriend! oh- oh fuck-" you sob, tears pricking your eyes as he draws out your orgasm and rides through his own, grunting monotonously while he shoots ropes of cum inside you, coating your walls with his slick. you squirm at the feeling, patrick's actions only further spurring on your tears. but then he lifts a hand to cup your face. "no, no- don't be stupid. it's me. it's your artie." he coos, wiping a stray tear with his thumb.

you blink away the bleariness in your eyes and look at patrick's face, an all too familiar cheshire grin plastered over it. "art?" you whisper, chest still heaving with emotion, and he nods, moving your hand to cup his cheek like you've always done.

how the hell are you gonna explain this to the compound?

[theitgirlnetwork]

Earn It

Ch. 6: Pepperdine

Note: Okay...this one is long as hell, so sorry in advance! Thank you for all of the love, notes, comments, rebloggs! They are really inspiring and it's great to interact with you all. Some people have made me aware of things that I can do to make this easier to find, so I will sit down and apply those changes later today. I hope you all enjoy this one, and alsooo my best friend just started reading this story so if you're reading this hey boo! Thank you all for reading and reminder...all of the characters are pieces of shit in their own way...as it is in the movie. Alright! Enjoy <3

Warnings: Cheating (back to sorta), mild sexual content (MDNI!!!!!), some strong language, mention of injury.

Taglist: @spookystitchery@anehkael@fkaams@butterflyybabe@sun2flower @holierthancunt @silkenthusiasts @wolflover384 @liziihorta @summerssover @jackierose902109

She feels like she’s going insane. For what it’s worth, Heaven did not get a single ounce of sleep after she did what she did. Her lip curls as she looks down at Art, his arm tossed over her lap, his large hand spread over her bare thigh, the heat of it a reminder of her…predicament. 

I love you.

She winces as she envisions the moment again, hears Art’s voice and pictures Patricks face, Tashi’s face if they knew, jesus. Heaven bites at her thumb nail nervously, staring off at the mostly bare wall in Art’s dark room. “Fuck.” she mumbles to herself, picturing Art kissing her, touching her, on top of her, between her legs- “Fuck” 

Art’s hand tightens on her leg and she shifts her gaze down to him. He’s in the same position that they’d laid in when they’d gone to bed. His eyes are closed, she can see his lashes against his cheek. It’s annoying and unfair, men always have the best eyelashes. Art’s are a brown color, not quite dark brown or black, not quite blonde. She likes looking at his eyelashes, but she does wish that she could see his eyes.

It would distract her. From the tightness in her chest that had her wrenching his thin twin XL blanket off of them both because she was pretty sure the fabric was trying to smother her, earning a groan from Art as she slipped from under his grasp and sat up with her back against the cool painted cement walls of his dorms. 

Heaven takes a deep breath trying to get rid of the squeezing feeling in her chest without waking the blond man half draped over her lap. Clenching her teeth she rolls her eyes upward  to look at the ceiling as she wills her thoughts to slow the fuck down. 

I love you. 

She didn’t say anything. He said he loved her and she said nothing. Jesus, she is just like Tashi. As much as she loves her, the thought is scary. But what’s even scarier is that she almost wasn’t. She almost wasn’t Tashi. When Art looked at her and said what he said her mouth fell open, and she almost said the thing. She almost…she almost said what he said.

I love you.

“Fuck you.” she whispers, gaze dropping back down to the man below her. A careful manicured hand sweeps over the pale skin on his cheek, sliding along his jaw before a traveling finger smoothes over his nose. She giggles breathlessly as his nose wrinkles and his arm tightens around her legs. Heaven smoothes back the messy blond hair that had fallen on Art’s forehead as he slept, smiling to herself as he hums in his sleep, leaning into her hand.

I love you.

Heaven’s brows furrow as she suddenly feels very naked and very self conscious. She yanks her hand away from him, careful not to disrupt his sleep as she tries to lift his arm off of her. She barely has both feet on the cold, white dorm room floors before the arm is around her waist.

“Where’re you goin’?”

His voice is raspier in the morning. Heaven feels herself melting at the feel of a thumb smoothing over her stomach, rubbing circles over the baggy shirt she’d borrowed from him. Stolen? She has absolutely no intention of giving it back. 

She almost gets back into bed. It would be so easy. Sliding into his arms, feeling him burrow his face in her neck, kissing her as she’s lulled back to sleep. Just one leg up, and then the other. It could be good. It could be great.

But then her eye catches on a framed picture on his desk. It’s one she’d known he’d have, but didn’t think he’d have so readily on display. Patrick was very open with discussing his affection for Art. He has no problem kissing his friend on the cheek or forehead. Talking about how they’ve pushed their beds together since their second year of being roommates, always opting to sleep next to one another in their one, big ‘super bed’ as he’d called it. 

Art was subtle. He might share some food or toss an arm over Patrick’s shoulder. Turning red and furrowing his eyebrows when Patricks would lean into any insinuation about the two of them. But he loves his friend. It’s clear, it's obvious. And Tashi’s a homewrecker for messing with them.

And so am I. Heaven eyes the picture of Art and Patrick. Bright smiles on their faces, kissing their trophies while cheersing each other. This is too much. It’s all too much. Between Patrick and Tashi and now these feelings for Art…Art’s feelings for her- Heaven needs out. 

This toxic jumble is not her idea of fun. 

Her decision made, Heaven takes one more deep breath. She steels herself, and decides she’s doing what’s best. Snatching her bag and jeans off of the floor where she’d let Art tug them off the night before she rushes out of the dimly lit room as the sun starts to rise through the cheap, white shutter blinds. And she only lets herself look back once.

Thirty minutes. Art lays in his bed with his eyes squeezed shut hoping he dreamt it. He was praying to himself that he felt the cold morning air on his chest because he was having some kind of bad dream, not because Heaven had snuck out of his bed without saying goodbye all to probably go running back to Tashi and go back to pretending there wasn’t anything between them. The longer his eyes were closed, the longer he could pretend he still felt her soft fingers ghosting across his face. He could pretend that she was his.

He had to be fair, he asked her to pretend for the night, he never said anything about the next morning. 

Sighing deeply, he opens his eyes, staring up at his ceiling he frowns, forced to be faced with reality and the hand he’s been dealt. All he had really accomplished was planting seeds of confusion in the girl’s head, they were far from the point where she was ready to leave her relationship for him. She still has feelings for Tashi, and what’s worse, Patrick. 

Art loves his friend, he really does, but he knows him very well. He’s watched the guy go through puberty, learn that he’s got a sleazy type of swagger a lot of girls find attractive. He’d been there for Patrick’s first date with Lana Powel and his second the same week with Angie Cooper. Art had watched Patrick run through women like water, down to his last girlfriend who he had just started dating when he met Tashi and Heaven. Poor girl couldn’t compete with the hot Princess of Tennis and the sexy Ballerina two for one special being dangled in Patrick’s face and was therefore left high and dry with a simple breakup text. It’s not working. You were great.

Yeah. Forgive him if he doesn’t exactly think his friend is all that deserving of the masterpieces that are Heaven Whitlock and Tashi Duncan. 

And Art doesn’t pretend he’s a saint. Like Patrick has said, he does…well for himself in the women department and has since he hit a cute little growth spurt back in the 8th grade. But he has the common decency to make his feelings for the girls he would see clear. If they were his girlfriend, they knew it, he would treat them like a girlfriend. If they were a fling, he would acknowledge that they were just having fun. It ends with him getting a lot less drinks tossed in his face than his friend does.

See, Art is smart. He knows how to compartmentalize. Random girls who throw themselves at him after tennis matches go in one category, nice girls he meets in class go in another. 

Heaven and Tashi are in a league of their own.

Tashi is awe inspiring. Beautiful, talented, smart. Scary.

Heaven was scary in a different way. Scary like, the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Scary like he was desperate to do anything and everything to make her happy, including play along in this little push and pull game she’d tossed them into. Scary in a way that despite the fact that she creeped out of his bed at the crack of dawn, cowering away from the feelings he has with her tail between her legs, he still pushes his nose into the pillow she’d laid her head on the night before, trying to take in the last of her scent before it fades into the morning air. 

Dragging his way out of bed and away from what he has left of Heaven, he makes his way to the bathroom and forces himself to face the day.

Match point. Tashi thinks to herself, whistling out the extra hair in her lungs as she regulates her breathing, bouncing from foot to foot as she finishes out her final scrimmage against her teammate before her match with Pepperdine.

Her brain is nearly empty, the only thing swirling within her thoughts is following the ball, the only sound in her ears is her own breathing and the sound of her opponent’s sneakers scraping against the court. There’s no one in the world other than her and the girl across the net. 

With a final swing she sends the ball sailing over the net, down the line where the girl is just not quick enough to reach and with that Tashi had one. It was over. Tashi always gets this brief, melancholy feeling when she finishes a match, or even something as small as a scrimmage. The high she gets from playing simmers down into a dullness that makes her miss the version of herself she was just moments before, when the match was still going. 

That numb thrumb of disappointment under her skin usually dies out as she reminds herself that there will be more. More game to play. More time on the court. More of a tennis player she can be. 

What can she say? Tennis makes her feel greedy. It was never enough. The only thing that ever brought her a similar high was being with Heaven. And while she meant being with Heaven, she also just meant…being with Heaven.

The two of them have been together in every capacity that matters. Friends, best friends, friends with benefits, girlfriends, exes, partners. The only title she would never give Heaven is her rival. They have too much history for that.

Tashi feels the sensation of a toe pushing insistently at her side, digging into her ribs as she tries to focus on the sound of Aaliyah singing in her ears. “Stop it.” She says lowly.

“‘M’trying to show you something, just look for a second-” her little brother Ellis whines, tugging at his seatbelt to get more wiggle room, nudging the girl again with a snicker when she swats his foot away. “Tashi, play with me-”

“Jesus, can I have one fucking second-”

“Tashi Sierra Duncan!” 

The voice is sharp and unforgiving. Her mother’s tone leaves no room for nonsense as she whips around to stare her down, her father’s own gaze in the rearview mirror. Ellis is suddenly quiet, wide eyes watery as he looks at her from his seat causing a pang of guilt to form in her chest. 

Great. Now she’s the bad guy. 

Big bad Tashi. Taking her parent’s attention away from her siblings, needing to travel for tennis, being too tired to play all the damn time. Between struggling in school, watching her five younger siblings and helping her parents pay the bills with what she won at challengers and bigger competitions, somehow, she forgot to force herself to have the personality of a disney princess. 

Sue her, she wants to focus before her match. God forbid she wants to be at her best when there’s a fucking Nike rep watching her, a detail about today that her father had only mentioned 500 times, mentioning what a great fucking opportunity it was. 

Maybe she was the bitch who couldn’t take the time to glance over at her 8 year-old brother’s gameboy as he won the same game over and over again. But she was also the bitch who was working her ass off so that he could get new games. So that her sister would be able to afford the cute clothes by the time she started high school. So that her mom could stop working the job she fucking hated. 

When everyone forgot that, she didn't know. What she does know is Cleo demanded that she let her do yoga with her this morning, and Carter fucking had to practice his recorder at the exact time she started meditating. And now she’s sitting in this hot ass car, with no air conditioning, stacked with her parents and siblings, looking at her like she's the monster for wanting to do her pregame ritual.

But they’d all be smiling at her when she won.

Just 20 more minutes. 20 more minutes until she could have some peace. 20 more before the world will disappear, and all there will be is tennis.

“Apologize to your brother, please.” 

But for now she’s still here.

“I’m sorry, El. Didn’t mean it.” She sighs, brushing the back of her hand over the little boy’s wet cheek. “Mom, I need to start working my heart rate, I’m gonna take a lap.” 

“Okay, honey, just wait for us to sign in.” 

“Kay.” Tashi pushes the door open to the car, ignoring the whines of her youngest sister to go with her as slams the door to the minivan shut. There are crowds of people already gathering. Other competitors and their families. Coaches. Hers should be around here somewhere. 

Normally she’d scope the competition. Her presence tends to put the other girls on edge, so she often chooses to warm up in front of them, letting them know what the fuck is on the other side of the net before they even hit the court. But today, all she could think about is all that’s on the line. Her head swirls with thoughts of how winning today could change a lot of things for her and the people she loves. 

All she wants is to get rid of those thoughts. She wants to be one track minded. She wants to get on the court and have a good fucking time without worrying about what’s going on in the stands. 

“Hey, I heard Tashi Duncan’s here, should we all just like, quit tennis and kill ourselves?” 

A smile forms on Tashi’s face as she turns away from the van, finding Heaven standing behind her holding a piece of poster board. “Hey, there, Serena. I got here a little early. You’ve got bitches quaking already.” 

The taller girl basically hops forward, tossing her arms around Heaven, Tashi giggles as the girl stumbles back a little in an attempt to catch her. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I think my best friend plays in some of these things. I came to cheer her on.” Heaven squeezes her back before stepping away, holding out the poster for Tashi to see. “You’re crumpling the poster I made you.”

“There’s,” Tashi laughs again, placing her hands on her hips. “A lot of curse words on that.”

“I’m passionate.” 

“The poster makes you look like a fan girl, Hev.” She jokes, looping her arm with Heaven’s, guiding her toward the tennis club’s center and away from her parents' car. The headache that had started forming moments ago begins to fade as she and Heaven step side to side as they make their way to where the fences surrounding the courts are, ignoring the nervous looks from the girls they pass. “I’m usually a little more subtle when I come to see you twirl.”

“Twirl, you bitch.” Heaven scoffs. “Well, you don’t like flowers-”

“Who said I don’t like flowers?”

“Um, you, when Dylan Cho bought you some and I watched you regift them to your elderly neighbor after you said, quote, ‘I don’t fucking like flowers’ end quote.” 

Tashi stops walking, standing in the little grassy area next to the fence she rolls her, “Fine, correction, I don’t like flowers from Dylan Cho.” 

“And from Heaven Whitlock?” the shorter girl flirts, rocking on her feet. 

“Dunno, get me some and find out I guess.”

“You’re annoying.” Heaven huffs. Her eyes narrow as Tashi plops down into the grass, ignoring the blades poking at her bare legs and sitting criss-crossed, taking in a deep breath. “You okay?”

“Yup, I’m fine.” Tashi sighs, eyes slipping closed.

“Oh, okay.”  A beat passes. “It’s just you don’t seem okay. So, what’s up?”

“Just got a lot riding on today. And, I didn’t get through my regimen, so I feel fucking,” she waves her hands around as she tries to find the words. “Like just…too much. I’m thrown off. I hate when shit is too much right before I have something to do. Like, I like doing this, but I didn’t get to do what I need to and now i feel like-”

“What, you’ll lose?” Tashi’s eyes shoot open at that. Heaven had crouched down to her level, head tilted as she genuinely looked at her like she’s confused.  “Since when do you do that?” 

“What? Lose?” Tashi asks, staring into the deep brown eyes of her best friend.

“No, stop betting on yourself. You’re a tennis player, right? That’s what you are.” 

“W-yeah-”

“Okay, so you’ll win. Because you’re a tennis player and because you’re the best. Because you have to. Because its what you do.” Heaven gently pushes Tashi’s cheek with the knuckle of her pointer finger. “And because I don’t move my dance practices for people who don’t fucking win.”

“No pressure.”

“You’ll be fine.” Heaven shrugs. Tashi laughs, dropping her head forward. It almost alarms her how similar she and her best friend are in times like this. Heaven is genuinely her other half. She’s the only person who can demand that she show results and get away with it. Tashi respects her, she’s strong and yet understanding. She’s a perfectionist, and expects excellence, but she can meet her own expectations. With her, Tashi doesn’t feel like she has to run everything, she doesn’t have to carry her weight along with her own. She’s her equal. 

She may have grown up in a different kind of home, being an only child and not very close to either of her biological parents. She might be rich and spoiled. But she has what Tashi has. She knows it. The drive, the tunnel vision, the lust for her craft. 

Tashi remembers the first time she’d seen Heaven dance. The girl had shown up to the gym they used to hang out at, held her hand out to Tashi, and demanded she come watch her dance in one of the empty rooms. She’d said she’d watched Tashi play and it was only fair that she knew she was the best at something too. Tashi couldn’t have known what she was about to experience. The heart pounding, throat tightening feeling of watching someone change your life with every movement. Heaven’s eyes had been closed. It was like Heaven might as well have been alone. Everything had fallen away, including Tashi. It moved the young tennis player.

That was years ago, and now they were 16 and inseparable. They practice together, go on double dates, workout, and spend time with each other’s families. Mostly, they were themselves, not having to apologize to each torah about their passions. They were best friends. 

Which is why Tashi is shocked when she feels Heaven’s hand cup her cheek, her face moving impossibly close to hers, yet, their lips not touching, her eyes searching. “You’ll also win, because you’re Tashi.”

Blinking slowly, Tashi’s eyes flick between Heaven’s eyes and lips, her own parting slightly as she inches just a little bit closer, yet still refusing to be the one to close the distance. “What’re you doing? Trying to motivate me?”

“You need me to motivate you?”

“I’m always motivated.”

“Okay.” Heaven’s smile brushes Tashi’s mirrored one for a moment, causing both girls to shiver. “Then it’s not motivation.” She stands abruptly, swiping the grass that stuck to her legs with the morning dew away. “It’s just something to think about.” With that, Heaven turns on her heel, jokingly waving her slightly explicit, very encouraging sign in the air before calling over her shoulder. “Destroy that bitch. And then, I’ll take you out for ice cream.”

Before Tashi takes the final serve she sees Art coming through the fence. He sends her a soft smile and a wave before he moves along the edges of the court to avoid getting in their way. 

She hadn’t gotten to see a lot of him recently. Between classes, tennis and trying not to blow her brain out listening to Patrick bitch about tour, she hasn’t had time for much else. Yesterday she had four missed calls and no texts from Heaven when she’d gotten back from the courts. She offers him a smile back before serving the ball over the net.

When the match is done, Tashi watches on as her teammate pretends to whisper as she talks shit about her, taking a swig out of her water bottle before pushing it into her bag.

“Hey, you look good out there.”

Tashi looks up from her bag to see Art standing before her. He’d definitely gotten more defined in his time at Stanford. His muscles are more cut, his shirts a little tighter. And he seemed to have a little more swagger about him, his head a little cocked back as he addressed her, an easy smile on his face. And his win record was fucking great right now. It makes her think that maybe her assessment when she met him was right. He’s fucking good. Just terrified of his own best friend. Being out from Patrick’s shadow clearly agrees with him. “Thanks, stranger, it’s good to see you.”

“Oh, that’s my fault? I’m the campus celebrity that gets caught up signing her fans’ t-shirts on her way to class?” he jokes.

Tashi raises one shoulder noncommittally, sweeping her bag onto the other. “I hear the girls talking.”

“All talk, I swear.” He says, eyes widening. There’s the sheepish boy whose ears turn red at the drop of a hat.

“Hey, man, get your dick wet, I don’t care.” Tashi laughs, nudging Art before slipping past him. 

“Wait-” He calls from behind her, stepping into her path again. “Let’s catch up, we can get lunch at the dining hall.”

Tashi quirks an eyebrow, shifting her weight from one hip to the other. “On you?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ve got it.”

“Good, I’m out of points.

“So, thanks for lunch, it’s nice to see you.” Tashi smiles, popping a cherry tomato into her mouth. “What’s up?”

Art shifts in his seat. He doesn’t know what he’d been thinking. He’d gone to the courts to hit the ball a little but for some reason, as soon as he saw Tashi, he found himself inviting her to lunch. If anything, he should probably be avoiding her out of guilt or something. And he does…feel guilty. He’s buying her lunch as if the fact that he’s getting her a mediocre campus lunch makes up for the fact that he’d spent the night with his face between her girlfriend’s legs. 

It makes him wonder though. The fact that Tashi wasn’t tossing her gatorade into his face meant that Heaven probably didn’t tell her what happened. Maybe she plans to keep it a secret, and expects him to do the same. Maybe she freaked out and drove all the way back to UCLA, something he prayed didn’t happen because he was sort’ve banking on at least seeing her again later today. He knew he’d be forced to keep his distance, Patrick is coming at some point today and he knows if Heaven was still here, she wouldn’t give him the time of day in front of both of them.

Or maybe she did tell her. Maybe she told her that he’d said he loved her and Heaven and Tashi had a good laugh about it. Maybe Heaven promised that it hadn’t meant anything, and she was never going to let him near her like that again. 

The thought makes Art irritable. 

His mouth ticks downward as he sits back against the back of his plastic chair. “It’s nothing, I just wanted to catch up.”

“Mm, okay, well, Patrick and Heaven are supposed to be coming down later for the Pepperdine match, we should all get dinner or something.” 

That makes him freeze. So she doesn’t even know she was here. 

“If you want.”

Tashi’s fork hits her plate causing a plink sound to ring out in the air between them. “Okay, Art, this is fucking stupid.”

“What’s stupid? What’re you talking about?”

“Like you ask me to this lunch and then you’re being all weird-”

“I wanted to catch up with you, it’s not weird.”

She huffs, resting her elbows roughly on the table. “Just fucking say it. Spit it out.” 

He shouldn’t. Art’s not an idiot, he knows he shouldn’t. He should shut the fuck up. Or make something up. This line of conversation would lead to nothing but trouble and he should know better. He does know better. So, he’s not gonna say it. He’s gonna keep his mouth shut-

“I’m just surprised you guys are all still together, that’s all.”

If looks could kill, Art Donaldson would be dead and fucking buried. The icy stare that Tashi fixes him with has him slumping in exasperation with himself. He just couldn’t fucking help himself. Tashi’s brows furrow as her eyes move across his face almost rapidly, studying him. “Why?”

“I don’t…I’m just surprised. I just, like Patrick’s never-”

“Is he fucking other girls on tour or something? Like is this your way of trying to tell me?” 

“No, I don’t know, we don’t talk about that-”

“Bullshit.” Tashi rolls her eyes. “So what? There’s someone else? Or you feel like…like they’re fucking each other behind my back?”

“No, I don’t think Heaven is fucking Patrick behind your back.” Art scoffs jealously. This is where he fucked up. He shouldn’t have said her name. He knows he can’t say it normally, there’s always something behind it. Even Art can hear it. He adjusts his hat nervously as Tashi sits forward even more.

“I get it. You like her. That’s fine. She shows you attention. Fucking great. I bet it feels good. But Heaven isn’t going anywhere. Not without me. I know that, you know that. I’m gonna give you some advice because I’m actually a good friend. I know I sound like a bitch. I know it feels like I’m the mean one. But I’m actually showing you some grace. You don’t have what it takes to be with Heaven-”

“And Patrick does? He has what it takes to be with you two?”

“I do.” she asserts, scooting her chair out. “You might just be the worst friend in the world.”

The words cause a pang of pain that makes Art hang his head, eyes slipping closed. “Maybe.”

“Definitely.” Tashi scowls, grabbing her keys to leave.

“He’s not in love with you. Either of you.” He calls, squeezing his eyes shut, picking at his nails under the table, but keeping an even expression as Tashi rounds on the table again.

“What makes you think I want someone to be in love with me? Did I say I wanted someone to be in love with me?”

“No.”

“Okay.” she turns to exit again, stopping just short as Art’s word vomit fucks him over one more time.

“But Heaven does.” He says, scratching at his hair and dragging his eyes up to meet Tashi’s. “And she deserves it. You both do.”

Tashi snorts, meanly, crossing her arms over her chest, her large gray t-shirt wrinkles under how tightly she wraps her arms around herself. Her curls shake with her head as she looks down at him in disbelief. “You think because she gives you a crumb of pussy you know her better than me now? Don’t try to play me for her Art. I don’t lose.”

With that, Art watches as Tashi storms out of the cafeteria, her half eaten lunch sitting in front of the empty seat across from him and for the first time, he acknowledges that Patrick might not be the only opponent in his bracket.

“So, have you-uh, you been seeing anybody?” Art shoves his change in his pocket before balancing the two churros he’d bought in his hands, making his way back over to Patrick.

“What’re you talking about?” Patrick shifts on his stool, hooking his foot into the base of Art’s and tugging the chair closer as his friend plops down. “I’m taken. I think that Tashi and Heaven are making an honest man out of me.”

“Right.” Art laughs. 

“What, you don’t believe me? I really like them, man. They’re both good for me in different ways. I didn’t realize how good it could be having girlfriends.”

“Girlfriends? Is that what you are to each other?”

“Yes, actually, that’s exactly what we are.” Patrick chuckles, taking a bite of his churro, “What did they say something?”

“No, not really,” Art shrugs, leaning against the counter. “I just had lunch with Tashi earlier, like we talk sometimes, and it just doesn’t seem like she’s taking it as something serious, you know?”

“Is that right?”

“I dunno man, it just gave that vibe. And like, Heaven, what do you two really have in common?”

“What? Aside from being hot for each other you mean?” Patrick smirks, flicking Art’s hat. 

The muscle in Art’s jaw jumps at that as he involuntarily grits his teeth at the vision of Patrick being with Heaven, touching her, knowing her in the way he does, or worse, knowing her better. “I can’t help but think she might want something more than that and I know that’s not really your style is all. Just don’t want you to get hurt.” He mumbles, staring out of the large window in front of them.

Patrick scoffs and nods to himself before pushing out of his seat, leaning over Art, wrapping his arm around his shoulders as he presses his forehead to his. “You little fucking snake. I’d be doing the exact same thing, I’m almost proud of you.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Sure.” Patrick says smugly, popping the rest of his churro into his mouth before snatching Art’s, taking a bite and holding it out for the blond to do the same. “Planting seeds of doubt, smart.”

“I would never do anything to sabotage your relationship, I’m just looking out for you.” Art says breezily, brushing sugar from Patrick’s lips.

“Hm, sure,” Patrick gets a text, slipping his phone out of his pocket, he grins at his phone, smile going even wider when he sees Art trying to nonchalantly peek at the device from his seat. “Hev’s here. You know this just makes it hotter for me right? Knowing you’re here, pining for them. Scheming and shit.”

“Fuck you, m’not scheming, I’m very happy that you managed to scam your way into two girlfriends, Patrick.”

“This is good. It’s nice to see you all lit up about something, I miss that. Even if it is my girlfriends.” The two men stop for a beat and think about the situation they’re in and suddenly they find themselves laughing. It’s crazy. They’ve only ever liked the same girl once before in their lives, and they were kids then. It is absolutely insane now that they both have feelings for not one but two girls. Maybe normal friends would be able to share. They’d each pick a girl and that would be it. But something about this situation was different. Beyond the fact that both of them thought both of the girls were too amazing to pass up, there's an added layer in the conflict, because they both had a fear they didn’t want to address. 

Each girls’ feelings for them are conditional. There is no Tashi Duncan without Heaven Whitlock. There is no Heaven Whitlock without Tashi Duncan. Where one goes the other follows. That’s why none of their boyfriends and girlfriends ever worked out. They tried to divide them. But the grip the two women had on each other was too strong. Even if they could come to an agreement, if Patrick and Art decided they preferred one girl to the other, it wouldn’t matter. The two of them will always choose each other, and would always expect everyone else to fall in line.

It’s a sobering thought for both of them as they sit in the empty cafeteria, silence falling between them. Patrick feels his mind drift somewhere it seemed to be going a lot lately. He wonders if he and Art have the kind of relationship Tashi and Heaven do. Obviously they don’t fuck each other, though he’s pretty sure he’s made it clear before he’s down to hookup. But the loyalty. 

They’re best friends. Fire and Ice. It’s not lost on him that despite the fact that his friend clearly has some strong feelings for his girlfriends, they’re still friends. He still checks in on him. They’re still happy to see each other. Art still feels like Art. And Patrick’s grateful for it. So he can overlook some of the snarky comments, the glares over his shoulder, the questioning of their relationship. As long as things ultimately stayed the same between him and Art, Patrick would be fine. He pats his friend on the shoulder, getting up from the stool, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Walk me over.”

“You look pretty.”

“You look pretty too.” Tashi hums, leaning over and kissing Heaven deeply. When the two girls pull apart Tashi pushes her hands under Heaven’s large red t-shirt, running her hands along the skin of her stomach. Her brow arches as she looks down at the girl. “Art give you this shirt?”

“Tashi-”

“I know it didn’t mean anything.” Tashi says lowly, glancing over at the bathroom door, careful not to let Patrick hear the conversation. “He’s pressed though, so, what do you like him or something? Like are you over Patrick?”

It didn’t not mean anything.  “It’s fine, I…just couldn’t get you on the phone and Patrick was busy, so…it, I was just having a bad day.” Heaven breathes, bringing Tashi’s hand to her lips and kissing her palm. “Sorry.”

“Fair is fair, I’ve hooked up with both of them, now you have too.” Tashi shrugs. As much as her face is fixed in an uncaring expression, Heaven can tell she’s bothered by the fact that Heaven had been messing with Art. She’d never even addressed that she’d gone to visit Patrick without her again. Heaven wants to talk to her about these feelings she has. She wants to tell her that these guys are different from the others for her, and she thinks they are for Tashi too. The knob turns on the bathroom door and Patrick comes out, pulling his shirt over his head.

But now is not the time.

“Starting without me?” Patrick jokes, leaning down and kissing Tashi’s knee as he wraps a hand around Heaven’s ankle, causing her to squeal as he tugs her down closer to him. “Missed you.” He murmurs against Tashi’s skin before pulling away to capture Heaven’s lips. “Both of you.”

“Yeah?” Tashi smiles, sitting up and planting her hand on Patrick’s chest, pushing him down onto the mattress. He sits back, staring at the two women sitting on their knees in front of him. Tashi climbs into his lap leaning over and kissing Heaven one more time before she sinks down beside Patrick, kissing along his jaw. 

Patrick reaches over and tugs at Heaven’s shirt, unable to get it off from beside her so she sits up, pulling the shirt off and tossing it. His eyes trail after the fabric as his face takes on a confused expression. “That’s Art’s shirt?”

Heaven sits up, wide-eyed as she exchanges a look with Tashi. “Uh, yeah, he gave it to me earlier.”

“Earlier. Right,” he shifts his gaze to Tashi, letting her guide his face back to hers. “When were you guys gonna tell me about him?”

“He’s your best friend. I figured you knew.” Tashi hums against the skin on his cheek as Heaven kisses his lips. “Are you jealous?”

“No,” he mumbles against Heaven’s lips, pulling  back and watching as Heaven assists Tashi in getting her shirt off. “I’m the one who won the match. What do I need to be jealous of Art for?”

“Well,” Heaven kisses Patrick’s neck, murmuring her words against his jaw. “He’s smart, and handsome-” her hand slips down in the space between Tashi’s legs and Patricks, she relishes in the gasps they both release. 

“And really fucking good at tennis.” Tashi cuts in.

“He’s always been very good.” Patrick grunts, burying his fingers at the base of the loose braid in Tashi’s hair. 

“But he’s gotten better since he got here. I mean he’s really fucking good.”

Heaven’s brows furrow as she hears Tashi’s whispers. Was this really the time to be talking about Art? Hell, since when did Tashi have such a good fucking glowing review of him? Literally minutes ago she was dismissively saying that she knew hooking up with him would mean nothing. If she was trying to make Patrick jealous she should know the mission was already accomplished. As soon as they started talking about Art, he started kissing them a little rougher, gripping them a little tighter. “He’s never beaten me. We’re not still playing for your numbers. I won.” Patrick laughs. 

“He’s been working hard.” Heaven blurts. Both her boyfriend and girlfriend look at her as she crosses his arms. “It’s just like, are we gonna hold that shit over him forever, he’s our friend.”

Tashi purses her lips, looking between the two of them. “See? This is your problem. You always think the match is over before it is. It’s why you’ve still got that serve.”

“Jesus, Tashi-”

“Are we talking about tennis right now?” Patrick asks, eyebrows raised.

“I’m always talking about tennis.” She huffs, sitting up straight, still perched on his lap. Heaven rolls her eyes, knowing exactly where this is going. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she snatches Art’s shirt off of the floor and storms into the bathroom.

Patrick gestures toward the bathroom exasperatedly. “Could we not?” 

Tashi tilts her head from one side to the other, cracking her neck before chirping out a short, “Sure.” Climbing off of him she grabs a fresh t-shirt from her drawer and pulling it over her head. “Don’t know what else there is for us to talk about-”

“Maybe we should talk about the fact that she’s wearing Art’s shirt and neither of us knew when she got here.” Patrick follows the two girls off of the bed, standing in the middle of the floor between the bathroom door and where Tashi was rolling out her yoga mat.

“Heaven’s attracted to winners.” Tashi squats deeply on her yoga mat, not bothering to even look at Patrick out of the corner of her eyes. “So am I.”

“So what are you trying to say?”

“Art’s been winning, that’s all.” She says passively, standing into a tree pose.

“And so she’s cheating on us because Art’s getting better at tennis?”

Tashi fixes Patrick with a sharp look. “She’s not cheating on me. But if you want to confront her, go ahead, be my guest.”

“Yeah, fine I will.” Patrick takes two long strides and bangs at the bathroom door. “Hev. Can you come out here?” The door creaks open and the girl is fully dressed, still wearing Art’s shirt and a pair of shorts. “You’re dressed.”

“Yeah, imma head out, see you guys at the match.”

“Patrick wants to talk to you about Art.” Tashi says, moving into her lunges. 

“Now’s not the time, Tashi has a match.” Heaven shrugs, grabbing Tashi’s water bottle and taking a drink.

“And you don’t think it’s important to talk about this now?” 

“I tried to talk to you.” She sighs, “But I’m not gonna throw her off right before the match.”

“So this is still about tennis? Are you fucking serious?” He looks at the blank stares that both girls offer him and throws his arms out. “This is fucking crazy. So, you’re messing with Art because I lost a couple matches on tour?” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Heaven frowns, crossing her arms. 

“I’m saying I don’t need a fake fan for a girlfriend who's gonna mess with a different guy every time I go through a rough patch.”

“A rough patch?” Heaven scoffs. “Patrick, I’m having a rough patch. A rough patch is a bad day at practice, not your shitty win-loss record. Look, I’m sorry about the fucking shirt, okay? I’m sorry I went to see him, I’m sorry for this stupid fucking conversation, so take this-” She wrenches Art’s shirt over her head, and tosses it on the bed, grabbing one of Tashi’s instead. She looks at the girl with a scowl on her face. “You did this on purpose. I’ll see you guys at the match.”

Patrick watches in disbelief as Heaven has the audacity to be the one storming out and turns back to a still stretching Tashi. “I don’t need a coach for a girlfriend either.”

“Seems like you do.” She sighs, stretching her back. “Look, what is it you think you need from me, Patrick? Like really? There are plenty of girls who’d like to be your little girlfriend, cheerleader, whatever. You’re cute, you’re rich, you’ve got a big dick, go be with them. I get it, you’re living the dream, having two fucking girls but, Heaven and I actually expect results, so, I dunno. It’s kinda embarrassing, if you suck.”

“I suck now? I’m sorry not all of us are running around playing against Suzy Country Club, calling ourselves the Duncanator.” 

“Fuck you.”

“I don’t see you harassing Heaven about skipping rehearsal to come see me.”

“Heaven’s a fucking professional. Doesn’t embarrass me.” Tashi scratches her ear as she sits on the floor. “Do you know how much of a fucking waste of time it is for us take turns sitting through listening to you bitch about how you’re being cheated out on tour?”

“Sorry for inconveniencing you.”

“You are actually.”

Patrick crouches next to her, face close to hers as she faces forward with a blank look. “You don’t get to talk to me like I’m beneath you two, I’m not desperate for you to like me, I’m not Art. I’m your boyfriend, not a member of your fan club.”

He stands and Tashi quickly follows, scowling at him as she stands almost nose to nose. “You’re not a member of my fan club?”

Patrick stands his ground, staring down at her. “I’m your peer.”

Tashi scoffs, laughing humorously. “Look, I’m just warning you, if you lose her, it’ll be your fault. And I’ll go with her.” Patrick curls his lip, sneering at that. He knew that. He knows that. But to hear her say it. Like its a given. The verbal confirmation that he’s valued less has his blood boiling. “I don’t have time for this, I’ll just see you at the match.”

“You don’t get to just dismiss me.” Patrick huffs, grabbing the shirt Tashi had shed and pulling it over his own head. “I don’t need this shit.”

The pieces of Tashi’s hair that had fallen out of her braid blow into her face as the door slams shut, and all she can do is try to regulate her breathing as she thinks that she somehow lost another point because there were too many balls in play.

Heaven’s leg jumps as she sits in the bleachers at the school match. She watches students climb into the stands, decked out in ‘Duncanator’ attire. She’s fucked everything up. With Tashi. She’s pissed. She knows she is. Her even voice and blank stare is something Heaven knows well. And now she’s digging shit up with Patrick. 

She knows it’s her fault. No matter how sad she was she knows she had no business hanging out with Art. Not while he…feels the way he feels about her. Not while she feels the way she does. She clearly can’t handle even being his friend. One minute she’s just running into him, or alone with him by happenstance, or just calling to chat. The next he’s looking at her the way he does and her mind is foggy. 

She needs to do better. Patrick and Tashi deserve better. Art deserves better than half of her. So she’s going to keep her distance. 

In her peripheral view she sees blond hair moving up the stands towards her and immediately curses whatever god decided to make a joke of her today. She can feel Art’s intense gaze burn into her skin as he moves to sit in the seat next to her, pausing briefly, choosing to put one empty seat between them. 

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He says softly, eyes on her as she faces forward determinedly.

“You aren’t.”

“You won’t look at me.” His voice cracks on the last word and on the side opposite of him, Heaven grips the bottom of the bleachers, willing herself not to face him. “It’s because of what I said.”

Yes. “No.”

“Yes.” Art breathes. “I know I fucked it up. But I just…care about you. A lot.” 

“I care about you too.” Heaven sighs. “But-”

“What would it take?” He blurts, shifting completely in his seat to face her. “I’m just…he won and that’s fine but it was a stupid fucking game, so, what do I need a rematch or something, because I’ll win this time. Heaven, I’d win this time.”

“Art, we can’t talk about this okay? Patrick’s-”

“Not coming. He isn’t coming.” The blond man shrugs, sitting back in his seat, still watching the girl beside him. “I came, Heaven.” 

“It’s complicated. I shouldn’t have gone out with you in the first place. I’m fucking up. Even now, sitting here, I’m fucking up. You’re confusing me, a-and distracting me. It’s not like that with them, and I’m…I can’t come running to you crying with my problems every time I’m upset. It’s not fair to you-”

“I want you to come to me.”

“It’s not fair to them. And…I’m gonna stop, Art. We’re going to stop.”

Before Art can say anything the crowd starts cheering loudly, everyone jumping to their feet apart from him and Heaven. He just stares at her. It’s as if he could blink and she’d be gone. He feels her pulling away, and it’s causing him to panic. He nervously picks at his fingers, chest rising and falling rapidly as he sifts through his brain, anything he could do or say, just for a glance, he just needs her eyes. Just for a little bit. Just one more time. He didn’t know what to do. What to convince her. He could be so much better for her. He would do anything. He could be anything, if she’d just look at him. He’d show her he could earn her attention. Her love. 

He’s so lost in his thoughts he doesn’t notice the match started. Art watches Heavens pupils focus on one side of the court. He knows who’s over there. He knows who’s getting the attention he’s begging for. But she has his. Even like this, breaking his heart, she’s beautiful. The sad look on her face hardly affected her beautiful features. Her unbreaking focus makes her look otherworldly to him. If he wasn’t in so much pain, he might’ve been able to appreciate her passion, even if it wasn’t directed at him. 

A pained wail finally pulls Art’s attention away from Heaven. 

Studies say that the color of pain is red.

Studies are fucking right. Red is all Tashi fucking sees when her body decides to betray her and her knee absolutely snaps in half. The entire rest of her is numb as her knee screams and she feels her dreams start slipping away. It’s not fair.

Hurting this bad is not fair. That’s what really has her screaming out into the air. Several sets of eyes locked on her as she writhes on the court. The crowd had the fucking audacity to gasp when she went down. Oh you’re shocked? Me fucking too.

Quick footsteps make their way to her and she hears a man’s voice as she feels her head being lifted from on top of her racket and onto someone’s lap. “Tashi, Tashi-”

“Get that fucking camera out of her face, now! Fucking idiot!” There are two more steps and the sound of something sliding on the ground next to her. Suddenly, she feels a soft hand on her jaw. “T, you gotta breathe, babe, you have to breathe or you’ll pass out.” 

The softness of Heaven’s voice makes her cry even harder as she tries to lean her head toward her. “You shouldn’t move, Tashi.” 

Art. He’s here. Of course he is…Heaven’s here. But, still, as he smooths his hands over her hair, she thinks, he’s here. Despite what she’d said to him, he came. He’s here, after she yelled at him, holding her, lifting her gently to carry her to the infirmary. And Patrick was nowhere to be found. When she finally opens her eyes, she turns her head to focus her wet eyes on Heaven who was holding her hand over Art’s shoulder. Through her tear soaked lashes she can see the way Heaven was looking at him. And suddenly, she realized that she was too late in what she warned Patrick of. He’d already lost her. He was a sinking ship. Losing Heaven, fighting with her right before a match, not showing up. He’s unstable, unable to follow the course Tashi was charting. And she refuses to go down with him.

“Tashi, Tashi listen-”

“Out! Patrick out!”

“Just listen to me, Heaven talk to her-”

“Don’t fucking talk to her.” Tashi yells from the medical examination bed they had her wrapped leg hoisted up on. She points to the door again with venom. “Out!”

“Patrick-” Heaven starts, biting her nails from her seat next to Tashi, holding her hand with the other, Tashi whips her head to look at her, a teardrop escaping from her eye causes the girl to go quiet, sweeping her thumb across her girlfriend’s cheek. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me, just listen-”

“Patrick get the fuck out!”

The outburst even startles Heaven. She turns her head to see Art standing from his seat, breathing heavily, fists clenched. Patrick’s face absolutely drops as he takes one slow step backward before turning and leaving the room entirely. 

As soon as he leaves Tashi’s head falls back against the pillow, bottom lip shaking as he stares up at the ceiling. She attempts to disguise a sob as a sharp breath and Heaven hops down from the examination bed, ignoring Art’s soft call of her name and Tashi’s wide eyed look.

“Hey!” Heaven rushes out into the hallway, eyes burning from sterile white lights and drying tears. “Hey! Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” 

“Look, your girlfriend and boyfriend told me to go so-”

“So…so you’re just gonna leave? Fucking loser” She huffs, shaking her head at Patrick. Her lip curls as she sees him standing there in Tashi’s shirt. He’s breathing heavily, eyes narrowed at her disapproval. “Gimme her fuckin’ shirt back.”

Patrick scoffs, wrenching the fabric over his head, tossing it roughly at Heaven’s feet. “Here, give it to Art. Guess it’s his turn with you now-”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” she whisper-yells, not flinching at all as Patrick walks up on her, his nose nearly touching hers.

“I know you’re fucking him.” He says, a mean, rueful smirk on his face. “We know you’re fucking him.”

Heaven swallows hard. Clenching her teeth and looking back toward the door, praying that Art and Tashi weren’t hearing this conversation. Her voice betrays her as her heart drums against her chest. “You don’t know anything.”

“She’s done with me, so, so are you. That’s how this works, right?” He challenges, not moving an inch as she turns back to him. “You’re her bitch.”

“I’m her bitch?” Heaven laughs humorously, tossing her head back, looking up at the ceiling. “You’re a fucking fan.”

“I’m a fan? Yeah, no, sweetheart, wrong boyfriend-”

“No, you’re a fucking fan, Patrick. It’s how you met Tashi, it’s how you met me, it’s why you’re about to cry like a little bitch because Art yelled at you, God for-fucking-bid-”

“Is that all?”

“No. And you’re a bum. You’re talented but it’s a fucking waste, why don’t you go out there and win something, instead of watching everyone else achieve shit and scoffing like a pretentious prick. And then you won’t waste all your time shitting on people for actually working for something.”

The brown haired man sucks on his teeth, nodding along. “My turn yet?” Heaven just places her hands on her hips as the man moves closer. “You know what, Hev, maybe you’re right. Maybe that shit is true. But you’re looking in a mirror, baby. You’re just like me. You might go to your fancy school and you’re a hell of a dancer but at the end of the day you learned to like tennis for her. You came here for her. You like me, you like Art, but you’re so fucking scared of her being unhappy that you can’t move. Everytime we fight it’s over her. Do you even know what you want?”

Heaven sniffs, looking off to the side as Patrick smoothes back some of the hair from her ponytail fell into her face, his palm slightly soothing the headache that had formed the moment Tashi hit the ground. “I didn’t tell you to leave, Patrick.” 

“Alright, so come with me.”

“What?”

Patrick leans on the wall staring at her, daring her. “Come with me.” He watches as Heaven wraps her arms around herself, brows furrowing, and scoffs at her again. “We both know you’re going back in that room.” 

“Yeah.” she nods. “I am. And you’re fucking pathetic if you don’t come with me.” 

“And do what?”

Heaven’s hand fists in the baggy shirt, propelling her up slightly so they could be more face-to-face. The disgusted look on her face is evident as she stares him down, pretty feature’s dancing with rage. “You broke her, you fix her.” 

Patrick’s face softens as he looks at Heaven. There’s emotion behind the anger, the fear. There’s desperation. She’s desperate for a solution, desperate to help Tashi, one way or another. Right now, it's clear nothing else mattered in Heaven’s eyes. It's clear that she blames him.

He brings his hand down to the raw, bleeding skin of Heaven’s knee, cupping the back of it. “That looks bad-”

Heaven knocks his hand away, lip quivering as she pleads with him through brown eyes. “Are you gonna fix it?” All it takes is a look. And then she’s shoving away from him, storming her way back to the room, sending him one last scowl of disappointment before slamming the door behind her. “Fucking pussy.”

“What the fuck did you chase him for?” Tashi calls harshly from the padding. “Heaven.”

Heaven just silently limps in, trying hard to mask the pain in her own knee. It’s nothing like Tashi’s. It’s not even worth dealing with. Not when Tashi is in pain like that. She simply sits on the edge of the pad, careful to sit on the side that Tashi’s isn’t injured on. Her eyes slip closed as she leans up, pressing her forehead to hers. “S’okay. M’gonna fix it.” she promises. “This doesn’t…it’s not over. We’re gonna fucking fix it.”

Art’s jaw sets as he looks away. It felt like he was intruding on a moment between the two women. He hears Tashi’s faint sniffles mixing with whatever Heaven was quietly whispering in her ear. He shifts uncomfortably on his feet. He was worried for Tashi. Heartbroken for her. Laying in the bed, with an injury like that…he just doesn’t know. 

But all he could focus on is that damn drop of blood traveling from Heaven’s leg and splattering on the cold, white floor. The pink flesh showing from where she’d skinned herself, for her. She won’t just look at him. 

As he watches Heaven tend to the injured girl, Tashi’s words from the day before echo in his mind. But that damn drop of blood. He can't help himself. So he stays.

When the pain drugs finally force Tashi to sleep, Art’s had enough. 

Heaven was just…sitting there, watching Tashi sleep, running her hands over her hair with one hand, holding her hand with the other. He watches as she runs her thumb over Tashi’s forehead, staring blankly and biting her lip.

He takes a deep breath before whispering. “Hey, let me wrap that for you.”

“Wrap what?”

Does she really not feel it? She has to. The adrenaline had to have worn off, and she was limping when she came in. That scrape had to hurt like a bitch. 

“Your…your leg, Hev, let me wrap it.” Art says softly, pushing off of the chair and walking around to the side of the bed she’s sitting on. “It looks like it hurts.”

Heaven doesn’t look up from Tashi as she quietly shakes her head no, opting to continue combing her fingers in Tashi’s now loose hair. 

“Baby, c’mon-”

“I said no.” Heaven snaps, whipping her head to look at him briefly before turning back to Tashi. “Don’t call me that.”

Don’t try to play me for her. I don’t lose.

Art steadies himself before stepping closer, wordlessly holding his hand out to Heaven. He knows what he’s hoping for. He wants her to take it. But he also knows what he expects. 

So he’s shocked when he feels a soft hand in his. 

She’s still sitting. Still holding Tashi’s hand with her other one, but she took his. He has to do the rest. He knows that. Her eyes tell him that’s the only step she’ll take today. It’s been a rough one. For both of them. 

So he pulls, and she stands, and he scoops her up. Hands holding the backs of her thighs as he lifts her, eyes locked on hers as she flinches, once, as her hand pulls from Tashi’s grasp. Art sits Heaven on the infirmary counter and digs around in drawers until he finds alcohol wipes, gauze and band-aids. 

He makes work of her injury slowly, taking his time as he crouches in front of her. Art cleans the torn skin with the alcohol wipe, blowing cool air on it to soothe the sting, looking up at her through his lashes as he cleans her. He holds her thigh as he adds the gauze and band-aid, relishing in the feeling of her eyes on him. Only him. 

Finally, when he’s done, he stops her from hopping down and retreating back to Tashi’s side, bringing the injured knee to his lips and placing long, deep kisses to it, all while giving her his eyes. He watches as different emotions flash across her face as he murmurs sweet nothings and prayers into her knee, allowing herself to be soothed for a moment.

Before long she’s swallowing back her own tears that draw him up to her, determined to catch them on his finger and chasing them with his lips along her cheeks and jaw. He gently pushes her hair back before bringing his lips to her ear, holding her close. “I know, baby, I know.”

“I-” her voice cracks and Art feels her drop her head into the crook of his neck and shoulder.

“What can I do? How can I make it better?”

She shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut and curling into him completely. “I wish it was my fucking leg. Instead…instead of hers.”

“Don’t say that.” He breathes. “Heaven-”

He stops. He was going to say something else. She says something else, her words mumbled against his skin. But Art misses it. 

Because all he can focus on is Tashi’s staring from the bed as he sees the reflection in the mirror.

[shrack]

i need to yell about challengers into the void for a minute because so much of the dynamic is fascinating

tashi as coach and caregiver to art but being unable to do it for their daughter, pawning it off on her own mother every time theres a threat of them being alone. art seeking lily out as a source of comfort when tashi, who he for once asked outright to take care of him, to just hold him until he falls asleep, leaves.

tashi being completely unwilling to be patricks coach. for a lot of reasons, yes, but because he is too out of control, too past his prime, unfixable. patrick isnt going to be her lapdog, someone who will just roll over and bend into whatever shape she wants her ideal tennis player (and, lets be honest, partner) will be. he's not art, and tashi likes the thrill of patrick without the responsibility.

"im taking such good care of my little white boys" by asking patrick to lose for art's sake? for not loving art the way art loves her? for seeking out any ounce of excitement from patrick, because art struggles with tennis now, and who is he to her if he's not a tennis player?

[senseofnewness]

Just finished part 3 and can’t stop thinking about it. Honestly:

I truly don’t think reader can go soo long and not catch an ounce of feeling for Art. I think they both liked each just not nearly as much as they craved Patrick/Tashi. The whole [Art] not kissing her on the cheek and her noticing it and Art knowing that he’s with reader and still being head over heels for Tashi because she’s just something he cannot have. I’m not sure if I missed something, but in my head Art and Tashi had never gotten sexual because he’s ALWAYS went back to reader for his needs (plus Tashi did say it was nothing - and I would take her for a liar either.) Art is guilty of infidelity, mainly mental and reader is just fuckin’ psychotic. Art’s jealousy came out a bit more this chapter and I loved it. I loved seeing Patrick being open about his sexuality and basically admitting his crush on Art. They’re truly inseparable. I wish we could’ve seen more of Art and reader’s vulnerable side like in their argument where they both spat truths at each other. I had absolutely NO clue reader was walking around with battle scars on display for him to see. I completely understand her obsession with Patrick and him accidentally falling in love with her. It may be genuine on his end but it obviously isn’t on hers considering she has an un(healthy) obsession with him. If you ever plan on finishing this series, or if you ever wanted to just answer some questions - I have a few :)

- What does the future look like for Patrick and Art’s relationship considering Pat’s in love with Art and Art is oblivious (to everything/everyone it seems… but not really.)

- Will Patrick ever find out the reader is a freak or do we lock that in the chamber in live happily ever after?

- Once/If Patrick and reader do get together, will we get to hear Tashi and Art’s thoughts?

This is super long, sorry! Also, I read you saying reader was trying to convince herself that her and Patrick were much happier than Art/Tashi - can you elaborate or is that too much to speak on in honor of a potential part 3? 👀 The people wanna know…

wow that's a long message, almost as long as part 2

Oh I think she cares SO MUCH about Art especially the fact that he "doesn't" care (that's what she thinks), she cares.

Yes I can confirm it, Art and Tashi never cheated. They're the closest friends but nothing more. But they like each others but will never say it because Reader is there. Tashi thinks of Reader as a loving and adorable girlfriend and thinks it would be terrible to break her heart. Art, he thinks like Tashi thinks.

It was essential for me to keep Patrick queer and in love with Art because it would explain his attitude with Reader.

I didn't think Art was ready to talk back to Reader yet but who knows IF THERE IS A PART 3

Reader just didn't give a fuck anymore about hiding her relationship with Patrick to Art. Hell, she wanted him to see and leave her ass so she wouldn't have to break up with him herself. I don't know if you noticed but how easier it would have been for her to say "let's break up" WEEKS ago. She just couldn't because that would make her the bad girl of the story. She's obsessed with being the victim.

Patrick never had someone who is so attentive to him. (I imagine him to be a middle child) He couldn't help but fall in love with someone who took such a good care of him and believed in him. It is genuine on his hands but it is not healthy either. Patrick is more than once on the edge of verbal abuse. He has issues.

Okay, let's go with the questions.

What it looks like? I truly have no idea. I really want them to make up and be besties because they are so cute. Maybe once Art finally starts dating Tashi? Once they both get what they "want", they would be like "look, it's done now, let's just make up" but that would be too easy. I think the resentment would mainly be on Art's side because Patrick was sneaky and hiding stuff from him. While Patrick would always be welcoming Art with open arms. As for Patrick's feelings for him, I'm scared they would always be unreciprocated. To me, Art is way too comfortable living the hetero lifestyle.

Oh god, Patrick would find out Reader is a freak eventually but sometimes think it's endearing because she loves him so much. But I'm not sure he would find out EVERYTHING because now that she has Patrick, she has no reason to be as freaky. Maybe until she gets a new obsession but ........

In my mind, they do get together because it's too far gone anyway. As for Art's and Tashi's thoughts, we will only hear about those if they're willing to tell them to Reader's face. I expect Tashi to do so. As for Art, maybe in a desperate attempt when Reader decides to leave uni to be a full time tennis wife for a player who barely manages to feed himself.

As for my "potential part three", I didn't give it much thoughts. But one thing is sure, I want to get rid of the university setting. So I thought Reader being pregnant would be the best way to.

But we can simply do a time jump but I hardly imagine Reader having a career that is so not taking care of Patrick 24/7. And since she sucks at tennis, she wouldn't be a coach, so once again the idea that she's a stay at home mom came.

But she's not fulfilled, she got Patrick, she wanted him for years but now she's a shell of herself. She does not desire anything anymore. Plus, their relationship isn't the greatest. They have great sexual chemistry but communicating is complicated since they can't mention anything about the beginning of their relationship without Patrick hating himself. Maybe he also cheats on her while on tour because that's how he is. And she resents him because pregnancy ruined her body. But one thing motivates her when she hears that Art and Tashi got engaged : how she was RIGHT about them. And out of the goodness of her heart, Reader reaches out to Tashi and congratulate her because she's such a GROWN person and more mature and happier and fulfilled. Tashi just answers 'thanks' and oh she's pissed. And Reader is like "let's put everything in the past, look, i was your fiancé's girlfriend a lifetime ago, so long ago i almost forgot, now look how much better my life is without you two ahah". She's mentally deranged.

Thank you for your message ❤️

[popculturebuffet]

Paul Dini’s Jingle Belle: The Mighty Elves (Comissoned by WeirdKev27)

Well well boys, we’re back to Jingle Belle with another kevmission, though per his request i’ll be getting back to Life and Times Of Scrooge McDuck at long last. I also have some other stuff planned and all that, but for now, let’s focus on everyones faviorite elfen hellion as we dive back into Paul Dini’s Jingle Belle. 

I covered most of the behind the scene’s stuff last time so in short in case your just joining us, since this one’s got a bit more stuff to tag: Jingle Belle is an indie comic book character created by animation god Paul Dini, the daughter of Santa Claus and the Queen of Elves who acts like a standard rebellious teenager sterotype and causes trouble for her dad.  Last time I touched on the character a good two days ago, we looked at her first appearance, where she sent her family to Family Therapy. At the time I’d ONLY read that story, and hadn’t gotten that far into Jing’s world just yet. As you probably guessed despite plugging a decent amount of time into re-reading the rest of Scott Pilgrim (shout out to my good friend Mike for the early christmas present), on digital and in color and into the Switch port of the first Fire Emblem, I still got 2/3 of the way through the omnibus Kev gifted me of almost all her stories up to 2018′s The Handmade’s Tale.  Honestly not a lot has changed from the pilot.. while Jing’s designs changed a bit, she’s still more of a rebellious hellion, and while Santa’s no longer a slut shaming jackass, he’s still hard on her while her mom tries to keep the peace, The humor’s still edgy, if toned down enough to support returning whenever Dini felt like it but it’s largely the same for better or worse.  Overall the stories haven’t been bad but have been a bit reptitive to read in one giant omnibus. This really is down to the format they were made in: These were one off stories spread months apart meant to be picked up off the shelf with no real ongoing stories or character development and only some slight worldbuilding here and there. In short not bad stuff, just clearly not built to be collected in a huge omnibus like it was and not the first comic collection i’ve encountered with this problem and definitely not the last. 

That being said the stories are creative and still well put together. It is Paul Dini and he has wrote pretty much every story collected here with few exceptions, so it’s still good stuff, just as I said clearly not meant to be read all in one block like i’ve been doing. And today’s story happens to be one of my faviorites so far, breaking the formula up a bit by having Jing do something a bit diffrent and also involving hockey, a sport this story made me realized might actually intrest me on some level.. if in part due to letterkenny. 

God bless those two handsome idiots. So let’s ice up or skates, get those letterkenny refrences at the ready and see what the Mighty Elves have to offer. 

We start at Hockey Practice for Santa’s Hockey Team, The Elves, the kind of sentence that makes me really happy to type for money. Santa’s team is naturally for this kind of story and what the title references, are the last place in the bi-polar hockey league their in.. presumably ran by commissioner bi-polar bear. 

Again, I really love this job and that i’m actually getting paid for this this go round. Anyway, Santa’s team isn’t all that agressive because.. well i’ts a team coached by Santa, why would they be? But Santa’s still proud of his boys... as for his girl on the otherhand he gets a call and we soon find out via mugshots Jing dragged her two friends, up from just one in previous stories, to an air force base, somehow got arrested for hitting on enlisted men, not a crime, and stealing and crashing a helicopter, very much a crime.  Naturally Santa isn’t pleased, so we cut to a few days later where he’s letting her friends off making robo kitties, damn I want one of those now, while leaving Jing to do the packaging, though like most stern but fair dad’s he admits he dosen’t like punishing her and is right in saying there’s more to do with her summer vacation than you know, piss off the military. Santa needs his flight clerance dammit. Jing complains there isn’t much to do but feed the reindeer and make toys to which I say.. really santa? You haven’t set up anything else for your eleves to do? Making toys is their job. Build a fucking movie theater. And at the very least if not for them than for your bored and rebellious daughter to distract her from doing crimes. She’s still likely got a few hundred years of teenagering left, give her something else to do other than piss you off.  Santa does have a least a little something: Hockey! Which Jing’s cousin Rusty has taken up. Rusty showed up in the first story but I kind of glossed over him, he’s basically Jing’s Dorky cousin she frequently abuses. Not really much more or less to him. Jing isn’t on board mostly because their team always looses, to the other teams: The Penguins, the Polar Bears, The Snow Leopards and the Eskimos because they don’t really have killer instinct, which yeah is kind of necessary for hockey. To her..

But during her rant she does show Santa she’s got genuine talent for the sport, so he makes her a deal: Do a little favor for him, and she’ll swap that for making toys.. it’s a deal.. one she soon regrets but hey. 

Jing naturally makes an ass of herself pretty quickly beating the shit out of Rusty with her dad repremanding her and threatning to throw her off the team if she has another outburst like. That is until she runs into the Huskies Coach, Stan. 

I mean i’ts a hairy old man who makes a side bet with Santa Claus despite it technically being against commission rules, might as well be. So Santa tells Jing screw it, as long as it’s the opposing team violence is a-okay.  And naturally our first target is the world famous hockey player, aka snoopy aka a snoopy stand in. And being a big fan of peanuts i’m a sucker for a good peantus parody. Doubly so since Dini did his homework, and as I’d remembered and a quick google confirmed “The World Famous Hockey Player” was indeed one of snoopy’s many personas.

 Not that it was much of a stretch: just about any time snoopy played a sport he was “the world famous X player”, but still it’s a nice little nod. Not so nice is Jing within seconds slamming him into the air and under a Zamboni and getting sent to the box for it naturally. So clearly she’s the shorsey of this team, all chirps and ultra violence. 

Snoopy is thankfully still alive, if barely, though he’s off course been through much worse.

But while in the Box jing helps advise the team and a presumed combination of her beating the shit out of the other team’s best players and her team now not only having something to inspire them but a strategy means the Elves win for once! Santa and Jing share a hug, though Santa advises her not to go for his wallet, it’s still a sweet moment as she’s genuinely invested now.  So we cut to..

Okay Hank Ribbon seal is genuinely one of the best things humanity has made but as for Quiki I just... wow that joke is mildly racist at worst, confusing and unfunny at best. I mean... it really just makes no sense on any level and that’s with me not knowing a lot about hockey, but knowing just enough to know Kathy Lee Gifford existed. Just.. what even was that? I know Paul can do better than this.. because as my first review outlined he wrote a LOTTTT of Tiny Tune Adventures including my favorite episode. He also wrote most of the best Joker episodes for BTAS, so it’s not like the guy CAN’T be funny.. so I have no idea how he could fail so hard with this. Just.. what is this. Who thought this was funny? what was the joke? 

That.. utter bafflement aside, this newscast is used to push things ahead as the elves are on a winning streak, having also beaten the Polar Bears and the Penguins.. though weirdly we DON’T get a cameo by this guy despite having already had Snoopy show up. 

That’s my boy. But yeah there’s only two teams left with this, the Eskimos and tonight’s matchup the Snow Leopards, aka snow catgirls lead by Tashi Ounce, who Jing met at the winter games last year and lost too and thus has a whole rivlary thing going. In a really nice moment Santa stops to make sure Jing is okay going into the game. 

It’s part of why I REALLY like this story: Santa instead of just being disapointed in his daughter genuinely bonds over her over something and Jing shows she has a softer side to her. It’s some good character stuff, helps shake up the normal formula nicely. Back to the usual though she and Tashi naturally go at it, phrasing, and fight the whole damn time, with Belle eventually scoring the winning goal. Though noticably while Tashi is just as competiive as belle and lost this time.. she’s fine with it, knowing she’ll win next time and congradulating the opponent.  But before she can leave the rink, Tashi is approached by a mysterious figure with an offer and we cut to said figure’s lair... it’s THE BLIZZARD WIZARD! dun dun dun!.... yeah I haven’t introduced him the Blizzard Wizard is.. well exactly what he sounds like, as well as the former ruler of the North Pole. He enslaved everyone there to do his bidding and was essentially, a butt till Santa showed up, united all the various animals and kicked his ass. Since then he’s been reduced to basically a rankin bass villian, lurking near bye and scheming to get petty revenge on Santa for it. So essentially....

Minus the tragic backstory. He offers them a deal: The championship cup for him defeating the elves. As he puts it the cup symbolizes hard work, respect and team work.. i.e the things their throwing out to get payback. Tashi wants none of it, but the blizzard wizard has his slush minons capture her and with the rest willing to sell out, he gets to work. 

Bliz snows out the eskimos, and brings up accusations of Santa gambling, which he gets away from by.. having his wife donate the money real quick don’t ask just go. But he has a waiver signed by the other coaches so their playing his goons. But Jing isn’t phased and Santa asks her to give the lockeroom some inspiring words. 

10/10 no notes. But naturally Bliz has a sneaky trick up his sleeves.. to win.. specifically a hot french canadian player which.. makes jing fall to pieces flirting with him and makes her entirely ineffective. Okay time out.... huh so this is the timeless void known only to zack morris, that girl from the reboot I haven’t watched, and Regis Filbin. But yeah while I wouldn’t expect Jing to slaughter the guy it feels out of character for all she’d do is to giggle like an idiot instead of making a move. She’s been established as forward and knowing what she wants. I’m not against her being distracted by this it’s just the how that feels off especially since the opening reinforces this. She hit on air force guys. She’s not going to just be giggly and awkward. Jing may not be the most complex charcter but she’s better than this. Aside from the baffling Kathy Lee Gifford gag, this is the only thing I really don’t like abotu the story, and it lasts two pages before it’s resolved and in a 22 or so page story, that’s a good chunk of it spent on something that isn’t funny and that’s out of character even within story. That being said it dosen’t drag the story down entirely, still a good story. Just a bit uneven is all. 

But unsurprisingly Tashi escapes her earlier imprisonment offscreen to let Jing know not only the full extent of Bliz Whiz’s machenations, i.e. that the other coaches are in on it, but that the hockey player is really just one of Bliz’s minons uner a glamour. WIth that knowledge Jing asks why she’d help and Tashi shows her inner honor beneath the whole rival deal, pointing out she wants to win from a GOOD team next year. With the jig up Jing pulvirzes her former crush, claims to have been under a spell (no one byes it) and the elves clean house and win. Super fuckin shooter. As for Bliz Whiz he tries to steal the trophy but instead gets booted into the snow leopards box, phrasing... it doesn’t end well for him. 

And yeah while he comes back eventually, some how, apparently, for most of the stories after this he’s just.. dead. He was killed and then his remains eaten. MERRY CHRISTMAS!

But Jing admits she had fun, she and her dad bond and we get one last gag as he assumes she learned not to showboat only for her to block everyone else in the team photo. Falalallal we’re out. 

Final Thoughts: As I said, one of my faviorites. It’s really well paced, has a good premise and only one part drags at all and only that part and one gag really don’t land. The rest of it is really funny, nice and touching, and overall a nice shakeup from these stories usual pattern of “Jing getting into hyjinks”. While she DOES here, her and her dad are literally and figuartvely on the same team, and she does show a sweeter side genuinely bonding with her dad and it’s nice to see them actually enjoy each other’s company for once. It’s a nice change of pace and one I wish more of the stories had. I’m not saying they all have to be holly jolly but i’d be nice if more of them had a bit of heart to them is all. Tis the season and all that. Still for what it is, it’s a fun ride and I highly recommend it. We’ll probably see her again sometime this season but that’s a bit off.  For now coming up I have some ducktales to tell, a chapter in a man’s life story that’s long overdue, a holiday mess I wish I didn’t have to clean up, and in the distant future.. an old friend to reconnect with. Until then if you liked this review reblog it, comment etc all that good stuff, and you can send me asks with suggestions fo ra review or direct message me, or ask for my discord, to comission a review yourself. Until then, happy holidays. 

[theclockworkmonk]

Not Just an Airbender

This is probably my favorite fic in my "Aang/Katara Missing Moments" series on AO3.

Trying to make Aang's dilemma more sympathetic and make sense of Katara's change of heart.

Kinda-sorta sequel to Intermission

Summary: Days before Sozin's Comet, Katara tries to reassure Aang about the task he now faces, and he tries to explain to her why he feels he can't go through with it.

Words: 2,460

Read on AO3

Read on FF.net

********

Katara peeked her head through the doorway to the balcony again. He hadn't moved since she first checked on him an hour earlier. Still sitting cross-legged in front of the candles, facing out into the moonlit night on Ember Island.

"Is something wrong, Katara?"

His voice made her jump. It wasn't loud, or soft either. He spoke calmly and plainly. She felt foolish, of course he had noticed her, he'd be a pretty poor Avatar if a nervous girl was able to sneak up on him while meditating.

"No, nothing's wrong," Katara said stepping onto the balcony. The breeze coming in off the ocean was warm, but she instinctively shielded herself by crossing her arms anyway, "Sorry if I'm bothering you, Zuko said you needed to figure things out on your own, but I just wanted to check and see how you were doing. Out here. On your own."

Aang kept his eyes closed, "You know that you could never bother me. I'm doing…..well, things are what they are."

Katara didn't know what else to say. Her first instinct, as it always was with Aang, was to comfort and reassure him, to do anything to remove the thing that was causing him an ounce of unhappiness. But this wasn't something either of them could just avoid, this was something that had to be done and was so much bigger than them. Katara knew that she understood Aang better than anyone alive, but she had absolutely no idea how to go about convincing her sweet best friend to be more ruthless. If he were capable of being talked into doing this, then he wouldn't be the boy that she understood so much.

Before she could think of a way to fill the tense silence between them, Aang opened his eyes, turned to look at her and did it for her, "I'm sorry, Katara. For snapping at you earlier. I don't want you to think I don't appreciate how much you're all counting on me."

Katara couldn't believe what she was hearing, "Aang, we do not think that you don't appreciate the situation or realize what kind of pressure we're under. It's quite the opposite, not only are you expected to defeat the most powerful firebender in the world, but you're holding yourself to an additional impossible standard. Aang, I have seen you do so many things that I never thought possible, but at the end of the day, even the Avatar is only human. Defeating him is going to be hard enough without protecting him from yourself."

"It's not an impossible standard, Katara, it's a standard that my people have held themselves to for thousands of years. If I do this, I will lose a part of myself that I will never get back. I won't….I won't be the same person anymore."

Katara sat down beside him and rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "Aang, that might be true if you had any choice. But sometimes we don't. I understand that it's terrifying to consider what crossing that line might do to you, that's why I couldn't bring myself to kill the man who took my mother from me. But that was different. That was revenge against a man who was no longer a threat to anyone, it would have just been about me giving into my own hate."

She shifted even closer to him, as if maybe by touching him she could absorb the pain he was feeling, "You're not taking revenge against the Fire Lord, even though you have more reason than anyone in the world to do so. That's how I know doing this won't make you a worse person. You're always going to be the best person I've ever met. As for being a different person….well, I don't think there's any way to avoid that. You're already not the same boy that I pulled out of that iceberg last year. With each new element, I've watched you master new parts of yourself, and grow into the man you were born to be."

Without thinking about it, she playfully nudged him and winked, "You're certainly more bold now than when I first met you, I know that better than anyone."

Aang's calm demeanor cracked slightly as his cheeks turned red, and Katara could feel her own doing the same, partly out of embarrassment and partly with anger at herself. They still hadn't directly addressed Aang's previous "boldness" and she suddenly realized that right now he probably didn't need a reminder of the last time conviction backfired on him, even if it was due to her own lack of it.

Katara quickly tried to not linger and plow ahead with her point, "And maybe that's what it means for you to truly become the Avatar. Maybe that's what we've been coming to this whole time. You started your life as an airbender, but you're not just an airbender, you're the Avatar too. I don't want to be mean, Aang, but...isn't the Avatar supposed to be loyal to the whole world, not just his native nation?"

Katara had been terrified of getting to this point. It needed to be said, they had been dancing around it, but she was sure he would lash out and ask how she could possibly say something so heartless. But when Aang responded, he didn't sound angry, or even frustrated. He sounded…..tired. Tired, scared, and above all, sad. As if he were grieving a lost love.

"I think it might be different when I am my entire native nation."

He stood up, and leaned with both hands on the railing, hanging his head between his arms. Katara could see his hands trembling as he gripped the wood as if for dear life.

"You're right, Katara. I'm not just an airbender. I'm the last airbender. So if I don't hold to my people's beliefs…...then who will? My people's beliefs….they're all I have left of them."

The front he had put on since the moment she stepped outside started to crack as a sob caught in this throat, "All I have left of Gyatso, and Jinju, and Pasang, and Iio, and Tashi, and all my other friends I knew, and every man, woman, and child I didn't."

He didn't even seem to be talking directly to her at this point. He seemed far away from her, his eyes looking out across time one hundred years, "Every pair of fat, old monks playing Pai Sho, every acolyte crashing his first glider, every group of kids playing airball. As long as I stay the best airbender I can be, then maybe...maybe they're not really gone. But if I actually do this…..if I kill the Fire Lord…..then that's the moment when the Air Nation is truly dead."

He looked up at the moon, as if she might hold an answer, and Katara could see the moonlight reflecting in the tears forming in his eyes. "I'm the Avatar. I'm supposed to maintain the balance of the World. How can I claim to do that after I kill off what's left of one of the Four Nations?"

Katara followed him to the railing and they stood shoulder to shoulder, "You know Aang, sometimes I get furious with myself that I keep doing this."

He was momentarily snapped out of his despair by the amazing girl next to him saying something bad about herself, "What? Doing what? What do you have to feel sorry for?"

"I sometimes forget that you've already gone through more heartbreak than anyone can be expected to endure in a lifetime. You're such a warm and kind person that always sees the best in people that some people might mistake you for downright sheltered. But even close to a year out of the iceberg, you're still just trying to piece back together an entire world that you've lost. After we saw the ruins of the Southern Air Temple, after a few days you managed to regain your sunny disposition, I thought you had moved on already. But I quickly learned….you have to "move on" all over again every single day, don't you?"

Aang had to break his eye contact with her and look at his feet, feeling uncomfortably exposed by someone else explaining him to himself so easily.

"Aang, even after you lost everything you had to fight for, you still fight. You fight and struggle every day to bring hope to a world that, until you came along, had none."

She tilted his chin up to get him to look back into her eyes, "And that is the single bravest thing I've ever seen."

"Puh," Aang let out a sarcastic chuckle and shrugged her off, hard as it was to pass up any chance of physical touch with her, "If I were brave, none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have run away, the Fire Nation wouldn't have taken over the world, and I wouldn't be here now choosing whether to be a true Avatar or a true Airbender."

"Aang, it would take a lot more than stopping one monster for you to suddenly not be a true Airbender anymore. You fight for what you believe in harder than anyone I've ever met. The Air Nation way won't just live on in you, it will live on in everyone you've touched. Because that's what you do, Aang. Everywhere you go, you inspire people to be better versions of themselves. To fight for a better world, in any way they can. You inspire me."

She found herself reaching out for his hand and grasping it in both of hers like it was the most precious thing in the world, "I'm not the same person I was a year ago either, you've changed me. If I had never met you, I'd still just be a scared girl hiding my bending at the end of the world."

His eyes softened and he cracked the faintest of smiles that looked both comforted and comforting. She hadn't really solved his problem, he couldn't bring himself to agree with her that the Air Nation way would survive what he now contemplated, but it always made things better to hear Katara say nice things about him, no matter the context.

"That's nonsense and you know it, Katara," said Aang, unharshly and with a slight chuckle, "You were ready to fight even when there was no one around to fight. It was you who inspired the prisoners on that prison ship to rise up. That was the first moment since I saw the ruins of the Southern Temple that I started to truly believe that we might be able to bring back the world that I failed. That was also when I realized that I lo-," he stopped himself, his smile vanished, he slipped his hand out of hers, took a step away and could no longer meet her gaze," when I realized how special you were."

Katara became acutely aware that she was asking him to confront a decision that went against everything central to his very identity, while she couldn't even confront how a boy felt about her, and how she felt about him. There were dozens of times since that night at the theater when she could have told him everything, and despite the fact that it would be literally nothing but positive for everyone involved, she still didn't have the courage to do this simple thing that would make both of them happy. She had been so afraid to open up that door with Aang because that would make the danger so much more real. The idea of losing her best friend terrified her enough, let alone the idea of losing someone she was in love with.

But the more she thought about it, the more she thought Zuko had been right. If, perish the thought, something happened to Aang, her keeping that door closed wouldn't shield her. It would just add the pain of everything left unsaid. And talking with Aang now, she was starting to think that some reassurance about what awaited him once this was all over was just what he needed to get him through what he faced.

She closed the gap between them again and put her hand back on his shoulder, "Aang, I can't give you a reason, but I have faith that you will see this through. And you will do it in the most good way possible, because through everything, you are good. It's as simple as that. And whether that way is by going through with this, or by pulling off yet another miracle to find another way that I can't see, the whole world will know that you did your best."

He still wasn't looking at her, he was back to gazing out into the night air, "Do you really believe that?"

Trying to muster up some courage that she could pass over to him, she closed what little space remained between them, leaned forward, and kissed him on the cheek. The front part of his cheek, not quite on the corner of his mouth, "I know it."

Aang had at the same time about a thousand words and zero words running through his head. This wasn't, technically, a new experience, she had kissed him on the cheek before, but not since….everything happened. All he could do was blurt out the start of new sentences before he could finish them, "What…..But…You…...Do you…"

Katara just smirked, "Like I said, you're not the only one who's grown into a bolder person. We're all just figuring it out as we go along. And I know you will, before this is all over."

She gave his shoulder one last affectionate squeeze before turning around to head back inside, "Now try to get some sleep, you remember how you got the last time you stressed yourself out instead of getting rest."

Aang could still do little more than just blink. After a while, the only thing he could think of was sitting back down in front of the candles and resume meditating. He supposed if Katara had been trying to distract him from facing the Fire Lord, then it definitely worked. He found himself less paralyzed by the upcoming battle, because reconciling his core beliefs with stopping a genocidal monster seemed easy compared to mentally processing that kiss.

After remaining alone on the balcony for some time, he was joined again, this time by someone far less likely to confuse him with romantic affection.

"Hey Momo, I don't suppose you know what I should do."

The lemur's big eyes didn't offer any wisdom, about either puzzle.

"I didn't think so."

[cruecifymesixx]

Love and Leather /part seventy one/

Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: this is where the timeline gets a bit weird. I know Vince left in 92 but the story is currently in like late 95- early 96 but its fanfic so who cares really?

Warnings: Language,

Taglist: , @brideofdraculana , @xstarryeyesx , @aryssav , @miserablecunt , @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @fandomshit6000, @anntheboneless, @justjodeye, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @hi-my-name-is-riley, @extremesadnerding, @thatbandchick39, @awkwrdcait, @countrygirlswonderland,@romanticvengeance , @tashy-bear, @krazykatkay456, @terror-triplet​, @shouttatthedevill @beachystars, @rodriguez025, @kickstart-myheart-sixx, @s-outhie​, @anxious-diabetic​, @awkwardblackgirls, @rockersbox, @brooklyn-antiques, @shamelessobsessions, @jerseytaint, @lilytalebi, @criminalyetminimal, @motley-queen, @trapt-in-a-dream, @lunamadhatter99, @broke-n-bitchy, @thanks2pete, @slowandangry, @lovesick-heart0, @keepcalm-and-beyou, @miriampraez, @teenwolflover28, @lilyhw1, @motherloovebone, @random-internet-user-4471​, @falcon-arrows, @talranocchia2001, @wheresmyvodkabitch, @waywardprincess666, @malibubarbievince, @iluvmesomemarvelndc, @zoenicoles, @vamprlestat, @supersoldierballerina, @primal-screamer @electradestiny, @marshbev, @n0-sh0rtage-0f-faults, @cruebaby, @ggorehorror, @valentines-in-london, @miss2001babe, @nassauartist  @cmft-jr-winchester, @bokkie92, @notworthyofyou1120 @xrosegoldwolfx,  @lauravic, @mgkobsessed, @chaoticvybe,  @kellysimagines @thoughtsoftheantagonist @marvelismylifffe, @sleepyjunhong  @meetthesixxter @sparxx27 @gingerspicetalks @kaitieskidmore1 @unknownoblivion @nevergoodenuffbutokaaayyy @sublimeprincesswasteland @kylieinwonderland @haileynicoleseavey17 @lavendersoundbarrier @ijustwanttokiss70srogertaylor @xxisxxisxxis @xpoisonousrosesx, @cranberrirolls @m0rnlngstar @love-struck-aries @findingmyths @oskea93 @idumpyourgrass @minxtruck @i-want-to-shoot-myself @cruesixxlover1991 @arianareirg @fentitrbl @dogmom2014 @sinningsixx @motleycrueprincess​, @awesomealmostdopestudent​

*Flashback*

~Nikki’s POV~

“Okay, Nikki. Look right here for me! Perfect! Can you put your hand on Brandi’s hip a bit?” I rolled my eyes and did what he said, “Beautiful! These are gonna be some great shots!”

Another click of the camera as Brandi kisses my cheek and tries to nuzzle her face into my neck. I pull away, tensing up when she shows a slight ounce of affection. I looked at the camera when the photographer yelled at me again, “Most husbands would love to be doing something like this with their wife.” Brandi whispered in my ear, her lips grazing against it.

I gripped her hips when she wiggled around in my lap, digging deep enough to feel the bones “Well, we aren’t a typical couple, now are we, sweetheart?”

Brandi smirked before she gave me a kiss on the lips. My heart felt like a piece of barb wire was wrapped around it, ripping it to shreds as I pulled away from her.

“Can we take a break?” I asked the photographer as he sighed but nodded anyways. I shoved Brandi off my lap and onto the couch. I snatched the sheets away from her and wrapped it around my waist.

I grabbed a water and sat down in a chair as some woman came over and started fixing my hair, “George thinks your hair is still a bit messy…” She squeaked, avoiding eye contact as I chuckled.

“Yeah, just do whatever. I don’t care.” I grumbled, watching Brandi walk over in a black silk robe, “What? Can I just fucking have a minute?”

She shook her head and handed out a gold vile, “You need to relax, baby.” I rolled my eyes but took it from her anyways. I dipped my finger inside, bringing out a dab of white powder and snorting it.

“Thanks for looking out for me.” I laughed and handed it back to her.

“Can you at least pretend to be nice? This is my job Nikki and George is one of the best photographers out on the scene. I at least pretend to be interested when I got to the studio.” Brandi whined as I glared at her.

“Only interested in the band once the money comes through. Just fuck off Brandi. I’ll be ready in a minute!” I snapped at her, glares matching one another as she eyed the stylist before going back to the set.

“Sorry about that.” I whispered to her as she brushed it off and continued to comb my hair out to make it flat. I stared off into space, thinking about Vanity and Arianna. God, I knew the moment I went back there that would be the end of her and I. I know she’s pissed with me, I don’t blame her. I can’t find the courage to even fucking call her because I know what kind of shit storm I’ll walk into. Fuck, I created it.

“Nikki! Break time is over! Let’s go!” The photographer yelled as I sighed and got off the chair.

“So, we want to do some shots of you two holding one another. So you stand here, Brandi come stand in front of him.” Brandi smiled as she pressed her bare tits against my chest, “Well, uh…I don’t remember your name being Vanity so let’s switch sides.”

“I’m sure we can just cover it up with make up or photoshop it out. It’s an ugly tattoo anyways.” Brandi laughed as she roughly scratched her nails over my skin.

“Just fucking move Brandi.” I forcefully switched positions, “Better?” I glared at the photographer as he stayed silent but nodded.

“Can you wrap you arm around her shoulder, hold her close to you. And put your other hand on her bottom so we can see your wedding ring. Brandi, you just wrap you arms around him, that’s perfect. You two are perfect.”

*end flashback*

~Vanity’s POV~

‘Nikki Sixx’s ex fiancé and mother of his child, Vanity was spotted outside of LAX with their daughter whose name we’ve learned is Arianna. Our sources also snapped some pictures of them arriving at the bassists mansion she had lived in years ago. This is quite a shock as only a few weeks ago some very hot and steamy photos of Nikki and his estranged Wife Brandi were released into a few magazines-‘

Nikki snatched the remote out of my hand and turned off the TV. My reflection in the black screen stared back at me, “I have to go to the studio but I’ll be home later. You want to take Arianna to that Thai place we used to go too for dinner? I think she’d like it.”

I rested my head against the couch, tilting up to look at him, “Yeah uh, that sounds good. I think I’m gonna go to the diner later. See if Francisco would give me a job again since Arianna will be at school most of the day, just something part time or whatever.”

“You want to work? I thought you’d be a stay at home mom or whatever.” Nikki spoke as he put his jacket on.

I yawned, “Well this whole first week of Arianna being at school, I’ve been really bored. I can only take Anarchy on so many walks and Clementine has been with Tommy so I’m stuck here, bored.”

Nikki chuckled, “Okay, whatever you want to do doll. I’m for it and you know you can always come to the studio with me, right?”

I smiled when his hand cupped my jaw, thumb brushing over my cheek, “So I can be bored there and watch you boss the producers around?” I smiled kissing his knuckles before pushing his hand off my face, “I’ll come by with some lunch later for you and the boys.”

He grinned, lowering down as he kissed my cheeks, “You’re the best, you know that?”

I nodded and gave him a quick little kiss on the lips, “So you’ve mentioned it a few times.” I closed my eyes when he kissed my forehead before leaving.

I exhaled as I looked over at Anarchy, who in return wagged her tail against the hardwood floor, “I guess we can unpack the rest of my stuff. How does that sound?” Anna let out a breath of air before laying down.

I headed upstairs and to my bedroom. I made my bed and organized the pillows only for Anarchy to jump up and roll around on them. Everything was pretty much unpacked accept I did have a suitcase or two that needed to be dealt with. I put them up on my bed, unzipping them and throwing clothes on my bed. My closet was pretty much filled with shoes, jackets and clothes already but I had some room to squeeze a little bit more in, but I needed more hangers.

I walked out of my bedroom, paws following after me as I walked into Nikki’s bedroom. I looked around for a moment seeing the white bass on the unmade bed and black jeans thrown around the room, his cologne was still lingering around in the air too, “Jesus Nikki.” I said to myself as I opened up the closet door to see piles of clothes on the floor. I reached for two handfuls of hangers before leaving his room.

Anarchy started barking when the doorbell rang, followed by pounding on the wooden door. I looked over the banister seeing a figure outside as the doorbell went off again. I tossed the hangers onto my bed before going to get the door, “Uh hi?”

A short man, with a salt and pepper goatee stood in front of me, “Is Nikki home? I’ve been calling him all morning.”

I shook my head, “No, he left a little while ago. You just missed him. Can I help you with something?” I leaned against the door as he cleared his throat.

“Right, Sorry. We haven’t met yet. I’m Allen Kovac. I’m the bands manager.” He stuck his hand out and I shook it.

“Oh right! I’m Vanity. It’s nice to finally meet you. Nikki said he’d be at the studio.” I explained to him as he nodded.

“Like wise, and I had personal matters to discuss with him but I guess I can just talk to you about it.” Allen spoke as he handed over the piece of paper he was holding. I gently took it from him and smiled, it quickly fading as he looked at me up and down.

“Um…I’ll make sure he gets this. Do you need something else?” I pulled my shirt down a bit as the shorts I was wearing might have been a bit too short.

He shook his head, smiling “Oh! No! Just seeing what Nikki was talking about. He was right. You’re quite beautiful.”

I laughed, “Oh..” I pushed a piece of hair out of my face, “Yeah, little famous me. He’s mentioned a thing or two about you. Nothing but good words.”

He nodded, “And a famous little girl is a part of it. Is Arianna at school?”

“Yeah she’s going to the public elementary school right up the road. We didn’t like the private school and thought a normal school would be good for her. She likes it so far.” I smiled at him and moved to the side when Anarchy wanted out front.

“Thats wonderful, Vanity. I’m glad you two are here to be with Nikki. He was very excited when he called me and told me he was a father.”

“Yeah, he’s trying. Nikki’s a good dad.”

Alan fixed his tie as he looked at me, “Now, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way. You seem like a great girl, but are we absolutely sure Arianna is Nikki’s child?”

My mouth gasped open in shock as I stared at him. I crinkled the paper in my hand as I tried to control myself, “We just want to be sure Nikki isn’t being pulled around like he was with Brandi.” Allen motioned to the paper as I unfolded it:

From the desks of Elektra Records:

As a way to protect our artists livelihood and music, we are always looking out for their best intentions. We have been informed that the bassist of one of our highest grossing acts, Mötley Crüe, Nikki Sixx has recently found out he is a father. Due to the circumstances of his current situation of divorcing his soon-to-be ex wife, Brandi Brandt. We are requesting that a paternity test is to be implemented as a way to protect Nikki.

With a printed red stamp reading ‘Elektra’ I shoved the paper into his chest, “I…uh…Nikki’s her dad. I know he’s her father. We don’t have to get a test done.”

Allen sighed as he took the paper back, “How can you be so sure Vanity? How can I, the bands manager be sure about that? You were gone for how long? We just don’t want Nikki getting hurt in the long run. We don’t want him dishing out more money then he already had to with Brandi.”

I was beyond perplexed. I felt so god damn disrespected, “Allen, Nikki is her dad. And you don’t ever have to worry about me taking his money, I have more money than Nikki could ever dream of having in his pockets. I know you’re new and everything but I’ve been around Nikki my whole life. I know I was gone for a while but I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere. I’ve been with him- with the band forever.”

He seemed like he was thinking, “I’ll have to speak with Nikki in privately then. Thank you Vanity.”

*Nikki’s POV*

“Call the jackass again. I feel more bones rotting away the longer we’re standing around waiting for him.” Mick spoke roughly as he plucked at the strings on his guitar.

I picked up the phone, dialing Vince’s number as it just rang multiple times before it went to voicemail. I slammed the phone down before getting up and pacing.

“Hey man, I’m just saying…Van Halen replaced-“

“I know Van Halen did it! You say it every time Vince misses a fucking rehearsal!” I shouted at Tommy, my anger finally bubbling over as I knocked loose papers off the table, “Where the fuck is he?”

“I love Vinny, I do. But this is bullshit. We’re never going to be able to make any music with him spending all his time at the race track and not here in the studio with us.” Tommy spoke softly as he plopped down on the couch like a lazy teenager and twirled the drumstick around.

“Whatever. We’ll give him a little bit more time. Let’s just go over this again.” I exhaled deeply and picked up my bass.

“Nikki, lets just take a break. The three of us already know this, all we need is Vince to sing it. Let’s just relax order some food or something.” Mick suggested as I pinched the bridge of my nose and rested my head against the couch.

“Yeah, lets take a break. Van said this morning she was going to bring us lunch.” I explained as Mick chuckled and nodded, T-bone on the other made kissy faces at me. “Shut up.” I laughed while crumpling up a piece of paper and throwing it at him.

“So when’s Arianna gonna have a brother or sister?” Tommy laughed as I looked at him, almost choking on my sip of water.

“Dude, what-no! That’s not…we’re not even together. She wants to take it slow.” I rolled my eyes, “It’s annoying, but it’s whatever. That’s what she wants.”

Mick grunted, “What else do you expect from her Nikki? Really? You thought you’d get her here, get her under you and then get her to be with you again?”

I thought about it for a moment, “Uh, yeah? But that’s clearly not the case and I’m dealing with it. She barely lets me kiss her but she says I love you to me every day. So I’m just rolling with it, really. Whatever the princess wants the princess gets.”

They both snickered, “You got that right.”

We all looked to the door when Allen walked in, “Hey man.”

Allen glared at me, “I’ve been calling you all morning.”

I chuckled, “Sorry? I was busy with the tot and getting her off to school. I was gonna return them. But you also shouldn’t be calling me at seven in the morning either. Wait till nine at least, unless it’s an emergency. So was it an emergency?” I asked him as I kicked my boots up on the table.

“Maybe we should step outside and talk about it in private.” He suggested as I raised an eyebrow.

“Whatever you got to say you can say it in front of them too.”

Allen nodded before sitting down on the chair across from me, “Now, when I say this Nikki I do not want you to get upset or take it the wrong way, but can you be sure Arianna is your child?”

All three of us stared at Allen, “I’m gonna go take a smoke break.” Tommy mumbled as he scrambled to his feet.

“I’ll join you drummer.” I watched as Mick hobbled over to the door.

It was quiet between us as Allen reached for a fresh bottle of water, “Vanity seems like a sweet girl, I just stopped by the house and met her-“

“You fucking talked to her about this?’ Before me?! Are you asking to get fired by me or smacked by her?” I raised my voice as Allen closed his eyes before looking at me again.

“Vanity seems like a sweet person, but this isn’t coming from me. This is coming from the label.” He handed me a wrinkled up piece of paper, skimming through it before ripping it in half and tossing it back at him.

“You can tell the company to shove it. Arianna is clearly mine. She’s a spitting image of the both of us. Who the fuck do you think you are? She’s finally back home and you want to start shit?” I questioned Allen as he shifted in the chair.

“Nikki, I am not trying to start anything-“

“Good, then fucking drop it.”

Allen took off his glasses, “I am only looking at it from a legal aspect. There’s a lot of rumors going around about her and Arianna being yours, I think a paternity test would be a good way to lay those rumors to rest.”

“What fucking rumors?!” I yelled, “Nobody has said shit other than MTV! And they aren’t even saying the bullshit you’re telling me! Just fuck off! I’m not doing the test! If the record label has an issue with that you can tell them to call me theirselves.”

Allen gave me a stern look, “They are just trying to protect you Nikki. After everything that’s happened with Brandi, with court and the royalties and her almost taking your house. We don’t want that to happen. Again, I’m sure Vanity is a great girl and-“

“How can you even say that when you’re completely diminishing her character? You know nothing about her or us. Vanity is not Brandi, nor will she ever be like her. You don’t even have a single clue about what we have been through together. She’s the love of my life and the mother of my child. I appreciate yours and the labels concerns, but truly, I do not need it. Arianna is mine. So change the god damn subject.”

Allen stared at me for a moment, “Where is Vince?”

I smirked, shaking my head as I plucked the strings of the bass, “No fucking idea. We can’t keep doing this with him. All three of us are loosing our patience.”

“Just give him some time Nikki.” Allen spoke as he got out of the chair, “I have to go back to the office. I’ll try calling him and see where he’s at and why he isn’t here, alright? Just relax.”

“Yeah whatever man. I’m fine.” I responded, balancing the bass in my lap while putting the notepad on my knee as I tried to get a few chords down. Allen left shortly after once he realized I was no longer in the mood to talk to him.

“We’re on holiday, hooligans holiday. I’m on a holiday, hooligans holiday. I gotta get away.”

I erased some things before chewing on the pencil and mumbled a few lyrics to myself. I grabbed a cigarette from the table, lighting it as I relaxed against the couch. I’m surprised Vanity hasn’t called me bitching about what Allen had said. I don’t need a damn spit test to tell me what I already know, that’s too much of a hassle. Too much unwanted stress for both myself and Van.

I looked at the door when Tommy came in, an arrogant smirk on his face as Mick followed behind him and Vince followed behind Mick, “Oh, hey bud! So nice to finally see you.” His glare met mine as he scoffed and shook his head.

With an eye roll, “What do you want Nikki? I was busy.”

I raised my eyebrows, “What do I want? I’m sorry we, your band, are cutting into valuable racing time in your hot wheels.”

Vince crosses his arms over his chest defensively, “If you’re just going to complain about what I do in my free time, save it. I don’t give you shit for anything you do.”

I chuckled and put the bass back on it’s stand, “No, what I’m complaining about is you suddenly want nothing to do with Mötley.”

Tommy and Mick watched us go back and forth, “We aren’t doing shit right now, Nikki! Why would I want to stay in a stagnant band that can’t get with the times?!” Vince shouted, his words taking me by surprise.

“….And I am trying to get with the times! But I can’t always fucking do everything myself! I’m always making choices for the band. Tommy and Mick have been here helping me because they want this! And for fucking I’d appreciate it if our front man chipped in. You won’t come to rehearsals, you won’t come to meetings and for fucks sake you haven’t even gone to the damn lessons we and the record label have been asking you to go to for months now!” I couldn’t stop my words from rolling off my tongue. I couldn’t hold it back anymore, I’m not gonna be tossed around like a fuckin rag doll.

Vince let out a petty laugh, “You’re the fucking leader, Nikki! That’s why you do everything! And you do everything because you never let any of us get a word in! It’s always about Nikki god damn Sixx and what he wants!”

I rolled my eyes and stubbed out the cigarette, “Yeah, yeah. So Mötley is my idea and the songs are mine and the sounds are my picks for what I think will be best but for once, I am asking for help. I thought you’d be more then willing to do so but you clearly don’t give a shit about us or the band! You don’t fucking express anything and then get all pissy when it doesn’t go your way!”

“Because how am I suppose to express how I feel and what I want within this band when all you do is jump down my throat and bitch and complain!?” Vince shouted as he kicked the table full of papers and filled ash trays over.

“Real fucking mature, Vinny.” I groaned, standing up and picking up the papers and garbage.

“If this is how you are with your fucking band mates, I could only imagine how you are with your whore.”

I tossed the papers down, taking one long stride over to him and stepping in his face, Vince was quick to take a step back, “You want to fucking say that again?”

He thought about it twice, “You treat your band and so called brothers like shit! You walk all over us and I’m sick and tired of it! We constantly have great ideas but you undermine us! Look in the fucking mirror, Nikki. You have the biggest ego out of all of us.”

“I don’t treat you or the guys like shit!” I snapped back, “You’re dragging us around for what Vince?!”

“Yes. You. Do!”

I rolled my eyes, “Oh my god, are you fucking listening to me?! I have asked you for the past month to help us with the material and you aren’t!”

“Well I’m here now! Do you have decent shit for me or not?! Or are you just gonna bitch about my voice again! You know what, fuck this! I quit!!” Vince brushed me off as he turned his back towards me.

I followed after him, grabbing his arm and spinning him around “You know what?! You’re fucking fired!”

He laughed, shoving my shoulders “Fired?! I fucking quit already asshole!”

I shoved him out the swinging door, watching him bump into Vanity hard, who in return dumped the cup holder full of sodas on her self. I closed my eyes and waited for it.

“Vinny! What the fuck?! Watch where the fuck you’re going!”

There it was.

I glared at Vince, “Don’t fucking come near me or the studio again.”

“Yeah, I fucking won’t be. Sorry Van, and sorry you have to deal with this stupid asshole.” Vince glared at me one more time before brushing past her and walking out of the studio.

“Fuck!” I shouted, grabbing the nearest object, an empty vase and hurled it across the studio. I pushed hair out of my eyes as I tugged on the ends, “Fuck-babe let me get you paper towels.” I muttered as I walked over to the cabinets and grabbed a roll, “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you behind him.” I gripped her shirt and tried wiping it off.

Vanity grabbed my hands, “Nikki, it’s fine. It’s just soda, it can be washed.” She gave my hands a squeeze as I nodded.

“Dude…what are we suppose to do now?” Tommy questioned as I looked over at him and sighed.

“I don’t know T-bone.” I muttered as I took the bag of food Vanity was holding, “Let’s just eat. We don’t have any drinks, but that’s fine.” I tried forcing a laugh as I nudged Van playfully.

*Later that evening, Vanity’s POV*

I pressed my ear against the closed door of Nikki’s office, trying to hear the conversation he was having on the other side.

“No! Fuck him! I’m fucking done! He can rot in hell for all I fucking care!” My eyes went wide and I jumped back when something heavy hit the door. I hesitated when I reached for the handle. I slowly cracked it open, “No! I’m not gonna sit down with him and talk it out! He’s fired! I never want to deal with his punk ass again!”

Nikki glared at me when I came into the office. He pointed towards the door and mouthed to get out. I shook my head and sauntered over to his desk, “Allen, give me a minute….what Van?” I shrugged and sat down on his papers. I took the glass of whiskey out of his hand and took a sip.

“No, I’m not doing it. He’s fired and that’s fucking it. We’ll find another singer. Somebody who can sing the songs without getting winded and I’m not- Vanity! Give me the damn phone!”

I placed my foot on his chest to keep him sitting down, “Hi Allen, it’s nice to talk to you again. Nikki said no and he’s not doing whatever you told him to do. Now, i know rockstars never quit working but it’s after hours and his daughter, you know, the one that isn’t his daughter would like to see him. He’ll call you tomorrow. Have a nice night.” I put the phone down on the receiver and looked at Nikki, “It’s done and over with. Vince is gone and that’s it.”

Nikki became quiet as he looked away from me. I could tell he was struggling to keep his emotions in check, “Sixx…” I muttered as I got off the desk and made myself comfortable in his lap, “It’s gonna be alright.” I ran my nails through his hair as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, his arms snuggly wrapping around my waist.

He nodded as I leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss on the lips, “Hm, another one.” I smiled at his words and did it again.

“Did you still want to go out to dinner tonight?” I asked him as he rested his elbow against the arm rest and put his cheek to his fist.

“Can we just order in? I’m not in the mood to be out in public and have some fuckhead ask me when the next album is.” Nikki snapped as I nodded.

“No, yeah, that’s fine. I didn’t take anything out so I’ll just order pizza or something.” I shrugged and got off his lap.

“Vanity, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.” Nikki spoke softly as I completely brushed it off.

“Don’t even worry about Sixx, it’s alright. But come downstairs, Arianna keeps asking why daddy’s locked up in the office pouting.” I teased as he sent me a glare.

“Shut up.” He laughed a bit, “She didn’t say that.”

“You wanna bet?” I chimed as I quickly left his office with him following after me, “She said maybe if daddy’s pouting he needs to go in time out- no! Nikki!” I started laughing when he wrapped me up and started tickling my sides.

“What was that? I can’t hear you!” He howled, leading us down the stairs, “Time out? Huh, maybe mommy needs a time out for lying. Maybe a few spankings too.”

I attempted to catch my breath as I dropped to my knees in front of him as he stumbled over me and fell to the carpet, “Ah, what the hell, you brat.” Nikki laughed as he shoved my shoulder playfully.

I cupped my hand over his mouth as he furrowed his eyebrows, “sh sh.” I pointed to the kitchen when I heard a package open.

“One cookie for you Anna, and two for me. Another one for you and another for me- hey! Those are mine! Anarchy!” Arianna was in the kitchen, attempting to whisper as she snuck her snacks.

“Ari! What are you doing?!” I yelled for her, hearing her gasp as Anarchy came running out of the kitchen, followed by the patter of tiny footsteps.

“Nothing…” her cheeks were stuffed full and she had crumbs and chocolate at the corner of her lips.

“You got a little..” Nikki points to her mouth as she quickly wiped her face, “looks to me like you got into the cookies, doesn’t look like that mom?” Nikki grinned, glancing over at me as I nodded.

“I think daddy’s right princess.” I tsk’d as she shook her head.

“No! Only anarchy had cookies! Not me!”

Nikki raised an eyebrow and looked down at Anna who in return planted a sloppy kiss on his chin, “I think Arianna needs a little visit from the tickle monster!” She started screaming and giggling at the top of her lungs when Nikki grabbed her and pulled her to his chest.

“Mom-mommy! Help me!” Her laugh was loud and hearty as Nikki let her go and she came running to me and smacked into me so hard I fell back on to the living room floor with Arianna sitting on top of me.

Nikki laid down beside me with his elbow propping him up, “How does a little vacation sound? Us three going somewhere and just getting out of town for a few days.”

My ears perked up at vacation, “Somewhere with the ocean and seashells?” I asked and looked at Ari, “How does that sound babe? Go swimming with some fishies.”

Arianna nodded, “Daddy can we go?!”

Nikki laughed, “Uh, no. I was thinking up north a bit. Maybe a road trip.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, “Road trip? To where up north? Seattle? I love Seattle! Oh! She would love the Ferris wheel that’s up there! When are we leaving?”

“I was thinking Idaho.” Nikki looked over at me, gauging my reaction probably.

My eyebrows scrunched together as I scoffed, “Idaho?”

Nikki smirked before kissing my shoulder, “I know you are.”

“What the hell is in Idaho-Hey! Wait a minute! That was rude!” I started laughing when his joke just a moment ago clicked in my head.

“I’m just playing baby. But Tom is in Idaho, my grandpa. I thought maybe it would be nice for Arianna to meet him and for you to meet him finally after all these years..”

That was one thing we never got to do. If I remember correctly we were planning to go see Tom right before I left Nikki. He was so excited for it, for me to meet the man that was practically the only stable father figure he’s ever had. I never had the chance to meet Nona, but Nikki said she would have loved me, let’s hope it’s the same thing with Tom.

[sentimentlabotomy]

BASIC INFORMATION

Full name: Delcan Monroe Wellington

Pronunciation: Dell-kin  Mon-row Well-ing-tin

Nickname(s) or Alias: D, Dell, Curly-Sue

Gender: Female

Species: Human

Age: 20

Birthday: 07/05

Sexuality: questioning

Nationality: American

Religion: Agnostic

City or town of birth: Buffalo, NY

Currently lives: Downtown Buffalo, NY

Languages spoken: French (fluently) , English

Native language: English

Relationship Status: Single

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Height: 5’3

Weight: 145 lbs

Figure/build:  not muscular, average build, slightly toned, hourglass figure

Hair colour: dark brown

Hairstyle: curly, short, bangs, naturally curly

Eye colour: hazel

Skin colour: mocha toned, darker with a tan

Tattoos: N/A

Piercings: ear lobes are pierced, wears colored studs, silver locket necklace

Scars/distinguishing marks: a scar over her right eyebrow, pink flesh tone, only ½ of an inch in length

Preferred style of clothing: {see reference}

Frequently worn jewellery/accessories: necklace, small earrings.

HEALTH

Smoker? N/A

Drinker? Recreationally

Recreational Drug User? Which? N/A

Allergies: seasonal allergies, cats

Any physical ailments/illnesses/disabilities: N/A

Any medication regularly taken: N/A

PERSONALITY

Personality: curious, observant/analytical, defensive, hot headed, driven, stubborn

Likes: antiques, records, tea, milkshakes, reading, people watching, dogs, rain, spaghetti, pancakes

Dislikes: excessive heat, liars, coffee, cats, people who speak ill of her grandmother, rap

Fears/phobias: being in large crowds, public speaking

Favourite colour: lavender, purple

Hobbies: reading, writing, antique collecting, record collecting

Taste in music: classic rock, blues, rock, jazz

SKILLS

Talents/skills: talented writer, avid reader, analytical & observant, intelligence in most areas of historical knowledge  & common knowledge.

Ability to drive a car? Operate any other vehicles? Can drive car

EATING HABITS

Omnivore/Carnivore/Herbivore (Vegetarian):

Omnivore

Favourite food(s): pizza, spaghetti, salads

Favourite drink(s): milkshake, loganberry soda

Disliked food(s): fish, sugar cookies, protein bars

Disliked drink(s): seltzer water, any diet soda

HOUSE AND HOME

Describe the character's house/home:

Delcan lives in a small studio apartment in downtown Buffalo, on top of a small antique store she runs. The business once belonged to Delcan’s late grandmother, who she had also shared the apartment with before her passing. Vintage interior, 80s vibe; plants, colorful cloth tapestry on the walls in the living room area. A small writing spot sits in the corner, complete with typewriter; next to a leather sofa adorned with accent pillows. A rocking chair in the corner opposite of the sofa, next to a large bookshelf that spans the rest of the wall on that side of the room. patterned rug, classic in design; estimated to be from the 40's, sits in the middle of the room, over the  hardwood cedar floors. small hallway, wall covered in framed classic rock posters. On the opposite side of the wall, past the wide opening, Delcan's room. A different theme plays into this room. Fairy lights on the ceiling, records on nails as decor on the walls. A Crosley record player sits in the corner, on a small end table. A wooden crate stored underneath. Her bed faces the opening, the headboard again the wall opposite of the record player. This is all beyond the entrance with no door. This space was once an open room, much like the lounge. Though, it has no windows. A floral rug lays on the floor, just as you step into the space. The bathroom is a bit further down the hall. A shower, a toilet, a sink; the works. The doorknob to the bathroom is a vintage flower design. The door itself is cedar, like the floors in the living room. As you see out of the bathroom, a kitchen area. Counters of marble, an average refrigerator and a microwave as well as an oven. Against the wall, a small dining table with two chairs. In the corner, a coat rack and shoe rug. Right next to that, the front door leading down the steps to the first floor/ lobby area.

they share their home with anyone? Who?

Delcan used to share the apartment with her grandmother. Unfortunately, she has since passed.

Significant/special belongings:

floral rug, typewriter

CAREER

Level of education:

highschool education, in her last year of college for business

Qualification: qualified with a business license  & communications in sales.

Current job title and description:

waitress part time, shop owner, full time

Name of employer:

Nana’s family diner (local family owned diner)

COMBAT

Peaceful or aggressive attitude? Aggressive at first, after time the aggressive mannerisms subside due to advancements in trust.  

FAMILY, FRIENDS AND FOES

Parents names: ( Mother ) Eline R. Wellington.    ( Father ) unknown

Are parents alive or dead?

mother is deceased, father is unknown

Is the character still in contact with their parents? No

Siblings? Relationship with siblings?

N/A

Other Important Relatives:

Grandmother

Acquaintances:

neighbors, customers  at the diner & antique shop

Pets:

N/A

BACKSTORY

Describe their childhood (newborn - age 10):

Delcan Monroe Wellington was born July fifth, nineteen ninety eight; at five in the evening. Her mother was blessed with the baby girl, adoring her daughter with every ounce of her being. After money became scarce for the woman, Eline moved herself and her two year old daughter in with her mother. During the day, while Eline worked as an employee for a nearby jeweler. During the day, when Eline was at work, Delcan's grandmother took care of her. Not only did she care for her, she showed her music the two would dance around the room listening to records of the Beatles, the Beach Boys and the Monkees on repeat. Eventually, after the same routine for a pretty extensive amount of time; Delcan began school after daycare. Being 6 years old, she began kindergarten classes. Delcan had trouble making friends due to her stubborn mannerisms as well as her extensive differences in taste of music and shows. All of the kids she knew at school watched things such as ‘Barney ‘ and ‘Blue's Clues’. Delcan much preferred Winnie The Pooh and watching the Sherlock Holmes films with her grandmother. As time went on, Eline continued to work constantly. Delcan's grandmother, Dorothy; continued to be close with Delcan. Unfortunately, to the age of ten, Delcan had no friends to  account for besides her grandmother.

Describe their teenage years to adult (11 - 20):

Age eleven was standard in the way things were going priorly. Age twelve was certainly much different. At age twelve, Delcan lost  her mother due to a terrible car accident while she was on her way home from the jeweller’s shop. Dorothy kept custody of Delcan, who was beginning to change. Her hormones on top of her mother passing caused Delcan to pick fights at school, to which Dorothy eventually put an end to. After a few years of the two watching films, living together; listening to records continuously, Delcan got a job at the Nana's family diner at the age of 17. Working up to 5 hours a day after school, seven days a week; Delcan still made time for Dorothy on the weekends. Dorothy, who was an avid collector of antiques had opened a shop downstairs when Delcan was 13. It not only kept Dorothy busy, but it also gave her money to pay the bills. The shop was popular & all of the neighbors knew & adored Dorothy. At the age of 18, though, Delcan witnessed her grandmother begin to slowly forget everything around her. Unfortunately, Dorothy ended up with dementia at the age of seventy one. Within the next year and a half, Delcan took care of her grandmother until she passed. Unfortunately, it had been some time since Dorothy knew who Delcan was. After a small amount of  time to grieve, Delcan pulled herself together and began to work harder to keep the shop open in Dorothy's memory. So, Delcan works as a waitress to cover expenses. Business is booming & stays that way.

STYLE REFERENCES:

Face Claim: Tashi Rodriguez

[ohmyglamstam]

BASIC INFORMATION

Full name: Delcan Monroe Wellington

Pronunciation: Dell-kin  Mon-row Well-ing-tin

Nickname(s) or Alias: D, Dell, Curly-Sue

Gender: Female

Species: Human

Age: 20

Birthday: 07/05

Sexuality: questioning

Nationality: American

Religion: Agnostic

City or town of birth: Buffalo, NY

Currently lives: Downtown Buffalo, NY

Languages spoken: French (fluently) , English

Native language: English

Relationship Status: Single

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Height: 5’3

Weight: 145 lbs

Figure/build:  not muscular, average build, slightly toned, hourglass figure

Hair colour: dark brown

Hairstyle: curly, short, bangs, naturally curly

Eye colour: hazel

Skin colour: mocha toned, darker with a tan

Tattoos: N/A

Piercings: ear lobes are pierced, wears colored studs, silver locket necklace

Scars/distinguishing marks: a scar over her right eyebrow, pink flesh tone, only ½ of an inch in length

Preferred style of clothing: {see reference at the end}

Frequently worn jewellery/accessories: necklace, small earrings.

HEALTH

Smoker? N/A

Drinker? Recreationally

Recreational Drug User? Which? N/A

Allergies: seasonal allergies, cats

Any physical ailments/illnesses/disabilities: N/A

Any medication regularly taken: N/A

PERSONALITY

Personality: curious, observant/analytical, defensive, hot headed, driven, stubborn

Likes: antiques, records, tea, milkshakes, reading, people watching, dogs, rain, spaghetti, pancakes

Dislikes: excessive heat, liars, coffee, cats, people who speak ill of her grandmother, rap

Fears/phobias: being in large crowds, public speaking

Favourite colour: lavender, purple

Hobbies: reading, writing, antique collecting, record collecting

Taste in music: classic rock, blues, rock, jazz

SKILLS

Talents/skills: talented writer, avid reader, analytical & observant, intelligence in most areas of historical knowledge  & common knowledge.

Ability to drive a car? Operate any other vehicles? Can drive car

EATING HABITS

Omnivore/Carnivore/Herbivore (Vegetarian): Omnivore

Favourite food(s): pizza, spaghetti, salads

Favourite drink(s): milkshake, loganberry soda

Disliked food(s): fish, sugar cookies, protein bars

Disliked drink(s): seltzer water, any diet soda

HOUSE AND HOME

Describe the character's house/home:

Delcan lives in a small studio apartment in downtown Buffalo, on top of a small antique store she runs. The business once belonged to Delcan’s late grandmother, who she had also shared the apartment with before her passing. Vintage interior, 80s vibe; plants, colorful cloth tapestry on the walls in the living room area. A small writing spot sits in the corner, complete with typewriter; next to a leather sofa adorned with accent pillows. A rocking chair in the corner opposite of the sofa, next to a large bookshelf that spans the rest of the wall on that side of the room. patterned rug, classic in design; estimated to be from the 40's, sits in the middle of the room, over the  hardwood cedar floors. small hallway, wall covered in framed classic rock posters. On the opposite side of the wall, past the wide opening, Delcan's room. A different theme plays into this room. Fairy lights on the ceiling, records on nails as decor on the walls. A Crosley record player sits in the corner, on a small end table. A wooden crate stored underneath. Her bed faces the opening, the headboard again the wall opposite of the record player. This is all beyond the entrance with no door. This space was once an open room, much like the lounge. Though, it has no windows. A floral rug lays on the floor, just as you step into the space. The bathroom is a bit further down the hall. A shower, a toilet, a sink; the works. The doorknob to the bathroom is a vintage flower design. The door itself is cedar, like the floors in the living room. As you see out of the bathroom, a kitchen area. Counters of marble, an average refrigerator and a microwave as well as an oven. Against the wall, a small dining table with two chairs. In the corner, a coat rack and shoe rug. Right next to that, the front door leading down the steps to the first floor/ lobby area.

they share their home with anyone? Who?

Delcan used to share the apartment with her grandmother. Unfortunately, she has since passed.

Significant/special belongings:

floral rug, typewriter

CAREER

Level of education:

highschool education, in her last year of college for business

Qualification: qualified with a business license  & communications in sales.

Current job title and description:

waitress part time, shop owner, full time

Name of employer:

Nana’s family diner (local family owned diner)

COMBAT

Peaceful or aggressive attitude? Aggressive at first, after time the aggressive mannerisms subside due to advancements in trust.  

FAMILY, FRIENDS AND FOES

Parents names: ( Mother ) Eline R. Wellington.    ( Father ) unknown

Are parents alive or dead?

mother is deceased, father is unknown

Is the character still in contact with their parents? No

Siblings? Relationship with siblings?

N/A

Other Important Relatives:

Grandmother

Acquaintances:

neighbors, customers  at the diner & antique shop

BACKSTORY

Describe their childhood (newborn - age 10):

Delcan Monroe Wellington was born July fifth, nineteen ninety eight; at five in the evening. Her mother was blessed with the baby girl, adoring her daughter with every ounce of her being. After money became scarce for the woman, Eline moved herself and her two year old daughter in with her mother. During the day, while Eline worked as an employee for a nearby jeweler. During the day, when Eline was at work, Delcan's grandmother took care of her. Not only did she care for her, she showed her music the two would dance around the room listening to records of the Beatles, the Beach Boys and the Monkees on repeat. Eventually, after the same routine for a pretty extensive amount of time; Delcan began school after daycare. Being 6 years old, she began kindergarten classes. Delcan had trouble making friends due to her stubborn mannerisms as well as her extensive differences in taste of music and shows. All of the kids she knew at school watched things such as ‘Barney ‘ and ‘Blue's Clues’. Delcan much preferred Winnie The Pooh and watching the Sherlock Holmes films with her grandmother. As time went on, Eline continued to work constantly. Delcan's grandmother, Dorothy; continued to be close with Delcan. Unfortunately, to the age of ten, Delcan had no friends to  account for besides her grandmother.

Describe their teenage years to adult (11 - 20):

Age eleven was standard in the way things were going priorly. Age twelve was certainly much different. At age twelve, Delcan lost  her mother due to a terrible car accident while she was on her way home from the jeweller’s shop. Dorothy kept custody of Delcan, who was beginning to change. Her hormones on top of her mother passing caused Delcan to pick fights at school, to which Dorothy eventually put an end to. After a few years of the two watching films, living together; listening to records continuously, Delcan got a job at the Nana's family diner at the age of 17. Working up to 5 hours a day after school, seven days a week; Delcan still made time for Dorothy on the weekends. Dorothy, who was an avid collector of antiques had opened a shop downstairs when Delcan was 13. It not only kept Dorothy busy, but it also gave her money to pay the bills. The shop was popular & all of the neighbors knew & adored Dorothy. At the age of 18, though, Delcan witnessed her grandmother begin to slowly forget everything around her. Unfortunately, Dorothy ended up with dementia at the age of seventy one. Within the next year and a half, Delcan took care of her grandmother until she passed. Unfortunately, it had been some time since Dorothy knew who Delcan was. After a small amount of  time to grieve, Delcan pulled herself together and began to work harder to keep the shop open in Dorothy's memory. So, Delcan works as a waitress to cover expenses. Business is booming & stays that way.

Style References:

Face claim: Tashi Rodriguez

[thavnarian-onion]

About the Muse: Uhoh Aliapoh

NAME OF YOUR MUSE: Uhoh Aliapoh

tagged by: @swordandpen , @xevtan , @locke-rinannis *?

Tagging: @home-halone , @thavnairian , @myself for other, etc. everyone else

ONE PICTURE YOU LIKE BEST OF YOUR MUSE’S FC: (haven’t decided but I always come back to Tashi Rodriguez?)

TWO HEADCANONS YOU HAVE FOR YOUR MUSE: -Uhoh is immune to a low dosage of poison, specifically creatures of the shroud (Banemite, Diremites, etc.) Having this privilege gave her the ability to fully ingest the sweetness of flesh of these poisoned mites which she essentially calls "Landcrabs". Doesn’t understand why people don’t eat them.

- Uhoh's blood, while she is aware that she's of a branched off tribe, she unaware of what her blood actually can do for the next progression in alchemy. Most of what she knows of herself has been stumbled on by accident and ill alchemy practice that her own mother caused which started affecting her at a young age. Uhoh herself has no recollection of this.

THREE THINGS THAT YOUR MUSE LIKES DOING IN THEIR FREE TIME: -Making pomanders to rid the smells and prevent infections from insects, she used to make these as gifts to people who she really cared deeply. Now she just makes them for extra cash. -Drinking, everyone likes drinking and washing away their pain with alcohol, Uhoh is the same, she likes to forget things. -Swimming - surprisingly likes to stay near the rivers with water sprites.

SEVEN(what) PEOPLE THAT YOUR MUSE LOVES/LIKES:

Uhoh doesn't necessarily like anyone, but if she had to choose...

Niraj'a Nadhi - The free company leader who has a close age gap with her. These two are often seen playing around(not doing work) leaving a mess for others(Hina) to clean. But overall pretty nice to Uhoh.

Hinageshi Gunji: Some Raen who works for Niraj'a, but honestly Uhoh thinks she's the only reason why Niraj'a isn't broke.

Parvanah Aliapoh: Uhoh's mother, a woman of alchemy and shuns most of the belief. Her whereabouts are currently unknown, but most likely in Ala Ghiri. Uhoh has mixed feelings about her.

Maha'li Lurem: A young Keeper who saved Uhoh after her fleeing from a catacomb in Coerthas...

TWO THINGS YOUR MUSE REGRETS: She regrets nothing at this moment. If she had any ounce of regret she wouldn't have done it in the first place. Being similar to her mother's attitude towards her own path, Uhoh learns to not turn back to the past even if history catches up to her. She's willing to face these consequences head on and is expecting the unexpected.

She regrets that sometimes she hurts people but if she ever looks back, she'll just think these people deserved it.

A PHOBIA YOUR MUSE HAS: Underperforming. She has an extremely high expectation of her own performance, and it usually is her downfall.

[funkyfreshradio-blog]

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