#|| No This Is Patrick || Asks.

[weallpartyatybcpatricksfuneral]

hi. rant about ybcpatrick at me. idk if I have any pertinent thoughts right now but I love angst so here's a thought: how much pain do you think he's in. just... constantly? like. he got sliced and diced. not just the hand, though that must be awful, but all his organs??? guy must be in agony whenever he gets enough of a breather to be aware of it

God he has to constantly be in agony. there's no way he ISNT in pain. he realistically shouldn't be alive or running around in any capacity like he is so I'm assuming there's something supernatural involved to keep him from dying. but he is definitely suffering. my personal headcanon is that while he's brainwashed he is so focused on his mission he just ignores the pain until his job is complete, which is kind of why he breaks down when he finally dies. his mission is complete. he protected the briefcase. also we do not talk about how the ybc lasts for at the very least a week and how after young volcanos none of them eat or drink water (im going to assume since they took the time to get cleaned up, Andy and pete did get something to eat or drink in between death valley and rat a tat). ESPECIALLY patrick. dude is running around for DAYS heavily almost fatally injured with no food or water. the amount of suffering he is in is probably SO severe. genuinely it's a miracle he didn't die from his injuries/condition alone in miss missing you. maybe he couldn't die until his job was complete.

#i have so many things to say about patricks suffering in ybc and how it dehumanized him on so many levels #ybc au where pete manages to get him back to normal in miss missing you but patrick fucking dies anyway because he is so fucked up #fall out boy #fob #ybcpatrick the guy ever #im not asking youre not telling #youngblood chronicles

[thepowerofswayze]

college art donaldson !!!

maybe something about him , tashi , reader , and patrick all being in a friend group at while in college. maybe patrick comes down to visit tashi and suggest an idea where they drive down to the beach and rent a beach house for a few days or something. while they’re there tashi and patrick start arguing leaving reader and patrick alone.

change whatever if u need to but js anything with college art , please !!

so i took a million years and definitely wrote too much but. finally. FINALLY. thank you sm for this request, i hope you like it :)

☆

beach trip

pairing: art donaldson (challengers, 2024) / afab reader [gender not specified]

word count: 3.9K

warnings & info: 18+, afab reader, NOT beta read lol (but nothing of mine ever is), college era art my love, friends to lovers, art and reader swim in their underwear lol, reader wears a bra, reader likes swimming, first time together, oral sex (reader receiving), p in v sex, safe sex (condom moment), art is a munch

summary: A group beach weekend sounded great- until Tashi and Patrick spent the whole drive bickering and the whole first night moments from pouncing on each other. Looks like you and Art will have to keep each other company.

☆

“Don’t let him scare you, he’s shit at board games. And card games. Just like he’s shit at tennis.”

You just blinked, eyes darting to Patrick to see how he’d react to Tashi’s dig. The nervous laugh to your left let you know Art was just as unsure as you were.

When Patrick had come to visit Tashi and suggested all four of you take a trip to a rental beach house, you knew being in close quarters with the both of them for a full 3 days would be interesting, at the least. You weren’t about to pass up on the beach trip, though- not when Patrick was covering the rent.

What you didn’t know was that they would be argue-flirting the entire way there, and every moment since you’d all arrived. It made sense, though- between Tashi rooming with you, Patrick not having a room since he wasn’t a Stanford student, and his long stretches between visits, they hadn’t had any time alone in a little over 2 months.

Their flirting was always a little angry- little jabs and remarks that would have made you wince if you were the target. For them, it just made the other’s eyes linger on their partner's lips for a little too long.

Patrick licked his lips before he responded. “Do you ever talk about anything else?” He asked, a lazy half smile on his face.

Tashi’s comeback was almost immediate: “Not like you give me anything else to talk about.” She leaned back on her hands, eyes raking over him from top to bottom.

Patrick seemed to enjoy the scrutiny. He leaned forward, that lazy smirk changing into a playful grin. “Yeah? I got something I could give you right now.”

Alright. That was your sign to go.

When you turned to Art, brows raised, he was already looking at you. You glanced from him to the door and back. You knew Patrick and Tashi would be on each other any second now, whether you two left or not, and you really didn’t want to get caught up in it.

Art nodded.

Your “I think I’m gonna call it a night” and Art’s “Uh, me too” fell on deaf ears as you two scrambled out of the room. Art had barely shut the door behind himself before you could hear those two pounce on each other, the board game you’d been playing definitely scattered and forgotten.

It made you snicker, like a middle school boy. One glance at Art and he was laughing too, a hand over his mouth, his red stanford baseball cap the only thing keeping his hair from falling into his eyes as he shook.

More noises from the room- a crash, then the dull thud of something falling to the carpet. You winced through your grin, then made your way down the hall toward the front porch, beckoning Art to follow you.

Outside, you placed your arms on the railing, leaning entirely on the rickety wood. In the cool night air, you couldn’t hear your roommate and her boyfriend getting it on like animals. You didn’t blame them, even if the angry flirting style wasn’t for you. If you had a partner who was always away, you knew you’d jump on them the moment they were in sight.

You glanced over as Art joined you, mimicking your posture. You knew there was a point, early freshman year, when he’d liked Tashi. It was hard to ignore how his smile dropped when he’d watch Patrick and Tashi reunite, thinking no one was watching. And you always recognized how lost he looked when he stared at her while the three of you had lunch- after all, you looked at him the same way.

Recently, though- over the year and a half you’d known the three of them- he was easing up on it. His smiles lingered long after he thought everyone had looked away. He didn’t even notice when Tashi walked into the cafeteria until you waved her down to sit with you guys. And now, next to you, he was grinning at their antics instead of grimacing.

He seemed to be over it. If only you could be so lucky.

“Like… animals,” Art said, glancing over at you. You were caught so off guard, you didn’t even remember to pretend you hadn’t been staring.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking!” You laughed, grinning. “They definitely needed that. Did you hear them in the back of the car on the way down here?”

Art groaned. “Oh my god, I thought they were gonna go at it right there.” He brought his voice an octave higher, lifting his chin in an imitation of Tashi that could’ve also passed for royalty- what was the difference, really. “‘You eat like shit. No wonder you play the same.’”

Immediately, you dropped your voice, giving him a coy side smirk and raising one eyebrow. “‘I’ll tell you what I’d rather eat.’”

The two of you doubled over, howling in laughter. Then, another crash from inside. Escaping them was going to be harder than you thought.

“You wanna head down to the water?” Art asked.

“Sure,” you said, smiling wide when he gave you a mock bow and let you lead the way.

The roar of the waves was comforting as you got closer, sand covering your bare feet- neither of you remembered to grab shoes- and the salty air filling your nose. The walk was silent, and the few minutes you spent standing at the edge of the ocean was, too. You watched it reach out toward you, then retreat back into the glittering blue-black. At some point, you closed your eyes.

“I’ve never swam in the ocean.”

Your eyes snapped open. Art was still looking out at the water, head tilted like an inquisitive puppy. The wind fought to ruffle the few curls that peaked out from under his hat. “Never?” You asked.

Art shook his head. “We didn’t really go when I was a kid, and I was way too scared, anyway. Then when I went with friends it was more about beach volleyball and drinking than actually swimming.” He looked over at you, then laughed. “I’m guessing from your face right now, you must love swimming in the ocean.”

You closed your mouth, which you hadn’t realized had fallen open, and shook your head. “Do I?” His incredulous head shake made you smile. A beat of silence. “Are you still scared of it?”

He took a moment to answer, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Then he shrugged. “I don’t know. Not too scared to try, I guess.”

“Alright, wanna try?”

Art just tilted his head at you. You gestured toward your clothes, then the ocean, then to him. You could see it in his face when he caught on. “I’m not going in alone.”

You only took a second to think about it before you were tugging your t-shirt off and tossing it on the sand between you two. Your shorts came soon after. You already had one foot in the water when Art called your name, laughing so hard he could barely say it.

You shrieked at the cold as it hit your stomach, then sunk down to your shoulders, getting the shock over with all together. When you turned back toward the sand, you saw a shirtless Art running toward you in his boxers, moonlight tracing his chest and shoulders. He still had that fucking hat on. It made you grin.

He didn’t shriek when he hit the water, but he did take a lengthy inhale. You watched as he held his nose, screwed his eyes shut, and dunked himself up to his head. His hat bobbed just above the surface, and you picked it up and put it on yourself.

When he came back up, he shook his head, wet hair sending droplets flying. Art grinned, wiping water from his eyes and pointing at the hat on your head. “Thief.”

You rolled your eyes. “Next time I’ll just let it float away then, idiot.” It only made him grin harder. You waved your arms back and forth through the water, the cold easier to ignore when you moved. “So?”

“Hm?”

“Still scared?”

Again, he thought about it for a moment. “No, actually. I think I’m okay.”

You hummed, bringing a finger to your chin in mock deep thought. “What if there are sharks? I think you should be scared of sharks, probably.”

“Nah.” Art shook his head. “The sharks should be afraid of me. I’m the scariest thing here.” He lifted his arms out of the water to flex comically, chin lifted in comical pride.

You laughed, splashing him, making him yelp. “Okay, sure, macho man.”

“What, don’t believe me?”

You shrugged, a smirk tugging at your lips.

Before you knew it, Art had his arms around your middle, lifting you and dunking you in the water back first, like a baptism. You had all of two seconds to scream, then shut your eyes and mouth. He let you up immediately, wading away from you and toward the sand as you resurfaced, spluttering.

“Donaldson!” you shouted, though your serious tone was undermined by your beaming face. Somehow, his hat stayed on your head.

He’d gotten a little ways away from you, but you still had the advantage- you swam in the ocean every chance you got.

You surged toward him, biting back a cackle as his eyes widened in fear. You grabbed his shoulders, pushing off him and shoving him under the waves. He stayed under for a second- then two, then three, until you vaguely started to worry- before jumping out in front of you, wrapping his arms around your torso and making you all but scream.

“Holy shit!” You were giggling, wrapping your arms around Art’s neck for stability. “Isn’t it fun in here? You’ve been missing out.”

He didn’t respond for a moment, so you met his eyes. You hadn’t realized how close you were. It seemed like the realization was hitting him, too, as his eyes scanned your face. He glanced from your eyes to your lips and back. Despite the breeze and the water, your skin was suddenly very warm. You could feel every point where his body touched yours.

You knew what was happening- you could sense it. At least, you were pretty sure you knew. It’s the only thing that could come next, right?

… Maybe you were reading it wrong.

You hesitated. Then, suddenly, “God, it’s cold,” and you kicked off of him to dunk yourself in the water one more time, resurfacing a couple steps away and wading onto shore. When you looked back at him, you could almost convince yourself that the same disappointment that filled your chest was written on his face. “Come on!” You called cheerfully, and Art started after you, replacing the look with an amused smile.

You both put your clothes back on, if only to shield yourselves from some of the breeze on the short walk back. You were both silent as you neared the house, as you walked down the halls. Neither of you even remarked on how Tashi and Patrick had finally gone silent. When Art got to his door and stopped, though, you turned to him.

“Goodnight,” you said, willing your voice to sound less defeated than you felt. Your hands fiddled with the hem of your soaked shirt.

Art nodded. That look was back in his eyes, the one that looked just how you felt. “Goodnight.”

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

The shower was much needed and very welcomed. You took your time getting sand off of you as best as you could, working the water into your hair (you’d wash it tomorrow- you weren’t going through that whole workout this late). When you stepped out of the hot water, toweling yourself off, your eyes caught on the red Stanford baseball cap on the sink counter. You bit your lip and walked past it, into the connecting bedroom you were calling yours for the weekend.

Pajamas on, you sat at the edge of your bed, scrunching your hair mostly dry with a spare t-shirt you’d packed just for that. The crash of the ocean enveloped you through the open window.

You thought about it. About his arms around you and his chest against yours. About the way he’d looked at you and you’d known exactly what he was going to do. About his face when you’d second guessed yourself and ran away.

Fuck. Why did you run away?

When you got up and walked to the door, you grabbed the hat from the bathroom counter. You told yourself you were only going to return it, but something in the back of your mind laughed at your excuse.

You had just gotten to the door, lifting a hesitant hand to knock, when it swung open and you were met with a flushed, freshly showered, boxers-and-t-shirt clad Art Donaldson.

The two of you stared for a moment. You didn’t see the disappointment in his eyes anymore, but there was still something there. You were sure it was on your face, too.

You cleared your throat. “Hat,” you said, intelligently.

Art glanced at the hat in your slightly raised hand, then nodded. His eyes came back up to meet yours, then darted down to your lips. He opened his mouth and hesitated. “Do you wanna-”

You pushed forward, pressing your lips to his for just a moment, before pulling back, searching his eyes. He didn’t give you too long to think about what you’d just done, his hands flying to your waist, pulling you back toward him and kissing you again. Hard.

Art yanked you into the room, and you dropped the hat, the door shutting as he pushed you up against it. His hands found their way under your sleep shirt, settling on your bare waist, and one of yours cupped his cheek while the other thread through his hair. You tugged gently at the curls, and he sighed your name into your mouth.

You pulled back just long enough to murmur, “Bed?”

He obliged, grabbing your hand to lead you to the corner bed. His rental room was similar to yours, save for a warm, dull bedside lamp on, barely illuminating the room.

You both crawled onto the bed on your knees, leaning forward to pick up where you’d left. Art’s hands played with the hem of your shirt and you helped him lift it off of you. His shirt went next. He cupped your breasts tentatively, thumbs brushing over your nipples, his face watching yours like he wanted to see if he was doing this right. You pulled him back in for another kiss and bit his lip. He groaned.

“Lay back,” he murmured against your mouth.

You did as told, scooting up the bed and falling into his pillows. They smelled mostly of the air freshener the owner of the beach house had doused it with, but the vague hint of Art’s cologne permeated the room.

He kissed you again, holding himself up over you. He placed kisses down your neck, your shoulders, your collarbone. As one of his hands came to rest between your legs, pressing against you between your pants and underwear, he placed his mouth on one of your nipples. He bit at it gently, sucking immediately to make up for the hurt and moving his hand against you. Your breath stuttered and grew heavy, lips parting, as he moved to your other nipple.

Art pressed a kiss to your stomach next, trailing lower, eyes closed. You watched as he murmured against your skin, “You don’t know how fucking long I’ve wanted this.”

“Yeah?” ‘Sex with me or eating me out specifically?’ you wanted to ask. Instead, you bit your lip and watched him hook his fingers into the waistband of your pants and underwear, pulling them down together and tossing them on the floor. He pressed alternating kisses to each of your thighs, inching closer and closer. You could barely hear your voice when you asked, “Why didn’t you do anything?”

A shiver ran through you, partially from the vulnerability and cool air, partially from the way Art was looking at you- reverent. Devout. “I couldn’t imagine I’d be lucky enough.”

You wanted to say something back- something clever and sweet to let him know just how easily he could have had you- but his mouth was on you in less than a second, and all that you could do was let out an odd cross between a huff and a whine.

His tongue pressed flat against you- eager, almost desperate, like you were an oasis in the desert. His nose bumped your clit as he bobbed his head, switching between long strokes and focusing on sucking your clit. “Shit,” you whispered, your hand threading through his hair. He fell into a rhythm, the consistent vulgar noises of his mouth against you filling the room alongside your gasps and whines.

When his tongue pushed into you, your eyes screwed shut. “Fuck, Art,” you said, barely gripping his hair and faintly hoping that it wasn’t painful for him. He only whined at his name, a desperate noise, and pushed his face impossibly deeper. “I’ll- I’ll come if you keep-” You cut yourself off with a groan.

Art pulled back just enough to say, “I want you to. Please, let me taste it.” Immediately, his mouth was back on you, like he couldn’t keep himself away for long. You would’ve playfully chided him for being so filthy had you not been busy gripping his hair and letting curses fly.

You let your head fall back, hips rolling on their own accord, and he only adapted and let you ride his face and bring yourself to the edge. You came with a loud cry, thighs pressing in on his head, back lifting just slightly off the bed. Art didn’t back off as your high subsided, continuing until you’d come down and were laying there, panting.

You pushed yourself up to a sitting position, then pulled Art back up onto the bed. His eyes were glossy, much like the majority of his face, covered in you and his own spit. You put your hands on his cheeks, ignoring the sticky feeling and pulling him in for a rough kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue.

One of your hands wandered, trailing down his chest and coming to rest at the front of his boxers, palming him. He groaned.

“I wanna fuck you,” you said, pulling away to look him in the eye.

Art huffed a laugh. “You can’t say that to me. I’m not gonna last at all.”

That caught you off guard, and you laughed. “What?”

He shrugged coyly, almost smug as if his cheeks weren’t still flushed and glistening from his time spent between your legs. “I’m, like, halfway there already.”

Just from eating you out and a little petting? That was… surprisingly hot.

You told him as much, relishing in how deeply he flushed and how widely he grinned. You made him lie back on the bed. “Condoms?” You asked.

He nodded toward his bedside, to the backpack leaning against the nightstand. You raised an eyebrow at him before leaning off the bed to grab one. All he offered you was a shy smile.

You kissed his chest, making your way down to his waistband, and he watched, propped up on his elbows, like he was sure if he took his eyes off you you’d disappear. When you pulled down his boxers and tossed them aside, you wasted no time ripping the condom wrapper open and rolling it on.

Getting up on your knees, you hovered over him and lined your hips up with his. You gave him a quick glance. “This okay?”

He nodded, eagerly, and you could’ve broken at the sight. You sank onto him, gasping slightly at the sensation. Art watched your face, open mouthed, eyes never leaving yours. You almost wanted to look away, but the intensity was riveting.

With him now fully in you, you gave yourself a moment to adjust, hands settling on his chest as he gripped your thighs. You gave your hips an experimental push forward.

Art let out a groan that sounded somewhat like “Fuck” and “Ugh” put together. You repeated the motion, your mouth opening softly as you watched his eyes flutter open and shut. It was like he was struggling between giving into the feeling and watching you.

You increased your pace, head falling forward as you lifted your hips with each push. Art’s hands moved to grip your ass, eyes focused on you, little pants and whimpers escaping him as you moved. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured. You would’ve responded in kind, but he bucked his hips moments after and your head fell back with a moan.

With your hands now supporting you from behind, gripping the sheets, you rolled your hips with each lift. Art let out a particularly pathetic whine, and you grinned through your heavy breathing, gazing at him with heavily lidded eyes. “Close?” He nodded, his expression so desperate that you were sure he was right on the edge. You could feel yourself right behind him. “Cum for me then,” you panted.

Art groaned, one hand moving to press sloppy circles against your clit. You forced yourself to keep your eyes open, wanting to see his face as his orgasm hit him. His eyebrows were furrowed, lips parted as he panted and he whimpered. When his orgasm came, his eyes shut and he cried out, gripping you tightly and continuing to rub your clit, hips bucking into you involuntarily. You were only a second behind, “Fuck, Art!” the only thing you could say before your hips stuttered and your second orgasm washed over you.

Slowly, you came to a stop, panting and barely keeping yourself up. Your head was light, and you couldn’t wipe an exhausted smile off your face. When you finally felt like your arms wouldn’t give out, you lifted yourself off of him, collapsing on the bed between him and the wall, catching your breath.

Art removed the condom, tying it off and throwing it in the trash before turning to face you. His breathing was much more regular, but his chest still heaved. “...Fuck,” he said.

And you laughed, one arm over your eyes, the other clutching your stomach. “Yeah?”

He was grinning at you when your arm moved off your eyes, then leaning in, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, your collar bone, your cheek. “Yeah,” he murmured. Silence fell over you both as you watched him intertwine your fingers and stare at them. His lip twitched, like he was working up the courage to say something. “I meant it, you know. I wanted this- you- I’ve liked you for… a while.”

You hummed, now suddenly also very interested in your intertwined fingers. “‘Liked,’ past tense? All done now?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, dumb-ass.” You smacked his arm, glancing up to find him looking at you now. “Like. Still. And probably will for a while.”

You felt your face warm. You kissed him. “I like you, too. Still do. Will for a while, etcetera.”

“Thank fucking god,” he said, and you couldn’t help but snort a laugh. When Art kissed you again, you could feel his smile against your lips, and you were sure he could feel yours.

#art donaldson smut #art donaldson x reader #challengers #art donaldson x you #art donaldson #art donaldson in stanford save me #art donaldson/reader #art donaldson/you #art donaldson fic #art donaldson imagine #challengers x reader #challengers imagine #challengers smut #challengers x you #mike faist x reader #mike faist smut #zee writes #my writing #challengers movie #challengers 2024 #ao3 #tashi duncan #patrick zweig #requests #asks

[theoldsports]

SORRY | series masterpost

Art Donaldson x Reader

Art and [Y/N] met through Patrick when they were seventeen. These are moments in all those shared years in their lives where Art had to say sorry.

SPONTANEOUS.+

SHITHEAD.+

SOLUTION.

SOUR.+

+ indicates smut/adult content

this is the official recommended reading order, even though they may be published out of sequence.

#art donaldson imagine #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #ask #art donaldson #challengers movie #challengers #patrick zweig #sorry series

[poppy-metal]

patrick making art fuck you in front of him?!? can’t stop thinking about it. he’d make you feel disgusting and would degrade you for being so greedy when he knows deep down that he loves this, it was his idea after all.

i think both men have a bit of cuck in them, if only because their own attraction to eachother makes the jealousy they feel a turn on. patrick watching art fuck you is as much about watching the way arts body moves as it is about seeing your tight little pussy get stretched out. he starts the situation as a power play, knows about arts little crush on you and your little crush on him, and thinks it'll be cute to see the way the both of you blush and fumble with eachother.

but god his cock is so hard its not long before he has to fish it out - get his hand around the thick hard length of it and start tugging on it relentlessly as he watches arts pink cock slide between the puffy lips of your cunt. that long beautiful cock. cant help commenting on it, either. "you look fucking hot rubbing her like that. keep doing it, she likes it."

and you do. the combination of patricks heady eyes on your spread cunt , while his best friend - hands sweaty and trembling against your own shaking thighs, to hold them open, god he's so much stronger than his lanky build lets on, so, so much stronger - humps his cock against your wet slit. you feel his silken head bump up against your clit with every nudge and cant stop whining. you feel his breath skitter against the back of your neck when patrick speaks, his fingers tightening into your flesh, hips shifting, cock plugging against your hole and rubbing it there - back and forth, back and forth.

"oh -. oh, god-"

"yeah." patrick grunts, and you can hear the wet slick of his fist sliding up and down his dick. can see his heavy balls bouncing with every vicious tug. lips red and bitten and parted, he looks just as fucked as you do, just watching. "fuck yeah, it feels good baby? you like arts big fucking cock?"

soft curls tickle your nape. followed by the wet of his lips as he mouths at your skin, you can imagine his face, bright cherry red at patricks vulgarity but he doesn't ask him to stop. he ruts more insistently. you hear him ask, soft - "d - do you?" he sounds so wrecked. "like it - like this. do you want me to-"

"put it in-" you beg. rock down so his tip nudges your entrance, just barely knocking inside an inch. balancing there, waiting to feel the push the ache the stretch. "patrick - tell him - want it. want it so bad."

"mm" patricks eyes close for a moment, head tipping back. you can see the veins in his throat as he swallows, squeezes himself hard, before he blinks his eyes back open, digs his thumb into his slit to feel the slick pre that bubbles there. "yeah, okay. do it, man. let me see you stretch that pussy out."

you dont know who moans louder out of the three of you the moment the head pops in and you begin to slide down.

#ask #anyway #patrick zweig smut #art donaldson smut #challengers smut

[raylangivins]

CHALLENGERS SPOILERS. but god also like, patrick agreeing to throw the match when art asks like it's nothing, and then later when tashi asks behind art's back he thinks it's so fucked up of her even though he agrees to do it, but then he doesn't do it. he chooses to goad art into playing real fucking tennis again instead. something tashi couldn't do. jdgfslgkddlaksjh

#and just the way that art loving her twists all these things to be so sinister #patrick can use the cheating to get him fired up but if tashi did it it would only humiliate him #in the same way that if tashi asks patrick to throw the game patrick feels it's fucked up to do it #it's humiliating (for art) when tashi does it because she doesn't love art the way art wishes she did #but patrick does!!!!!!!!!! #hnnnnnnnnnngggg i need to eat this movie #challengers

[fandomlurker333]

Soooo in an interview they all confirm that Art deliberately started instigating so that Patrick and Tashi (who WERE in love) would argue and potentially break up.

Now the only question is…hmm I wonder why? What was Art’s motivation? The hets will say it’s because Art wanted to be with Tashi. But he barely knew Tashi even after she and Patrick started seeing each other.

We see him ask Patrick if they slept together and fairly beg him to tell him so he won’t be “left out”. But when he and Tashi have lunch that first time it’s been a YEAR. Like he didn’t see or speak to her for a year. Didn’t obsessively watch her game. Wasn’t drawn to her. She even asks him “why did you want to have lunch with me?” Like she can’t figure out what he could possibly want from her.

That’s not a woman who has been continuously hit on by her boyfriend’s best friend. She can’t figure out what his motivation is.

And it was because he knew Patrick was coming. And he wanted to start some shit. He wasn’t over there trying to get Tashi’s attention while Patrick was on tour. He says “I can’t believe you’re still together”, and it’s because Patrick has never taken any girl seriously before.

And Art can’t stand it.

#challengers movie #challengers 2024 #challengers #art was jealous okay #but not of patrick #patrick x art #patrick zweig #art donaldson #Even when she asks if he wants her Art always side-steps by saying “who wouldn’t?” instead of “of course I do”. #this man don’t want her #not like that

[coldblooded-angel]

Why do I not see people talking about how angry Patrick got when Tashi asked him to throw the game??? How insulted he was on behalf of Art, that Tashi no longer believed in his own ability to beat him??? How he saw nothing wrong with her fucking him but that he drew the line at cheating Art out of a fair win?? What about the difference in how he reacted when Art asked the same from him vs when Tashi asked ????

#tennis was their holy ground and she basically asked him to spit on the face of god #being insulted but also being okay with cheating? #the implications that patrick has and was always part of this relationship and therefore didn’t count as cheating?? #their dynamics fuck me all the way up yall i need to lie dowb #challengers #patrick zweig

[dracoj]

hey guys remember how art is inextricable from every scene of tashi and patrick hooking up we get. in the hotel room almost-threesome, he’s there physically. in Stanford and Atlanta, they can’t stop talking about him. in New Rochelle, he literally looms over them from the GAME CHANGERS ad in every shot. he’s always there even when he’s not there

#is it really cheating if it’s with your husbands boyfriend? is what I’m really asking #j rambles #challengers #arghhh I wish I had screenshots #art donaldson #tashi duncan #patrick zweig

[hattersarts]

When you do gestures and facial expressions, what sort of things are you focused on or are thinking about? Like movement or feel or any guidelines you keep in mind for yourself while drawing?

So overall i would say my general run down when i draw an expression is i first start with the reason for the expression like so:

that fills in any questions i have about the expression, filling it in as much as possible (for example here jodi is also putting away the shopping in the cupboard as the farmer fills the fridge) gives you all the answers you could want.

you can see in this video the general structure of how i form a face typically circle, upper eyelid, eye, eyebrows/nose, mouth, chin/jaw and then details like hair/clothes. sometimes i'll include hairline earlier if it's important. the order in which i draw them is kind of their "importance" for me in conveying an expression.

most of what i keep in mind is the pinch or stretch points when i imagine/pull the expression myself, i broke down the previous expression as an example.

i dont tend to use a mirror much anymore since i can rely on my memory bank but they're very handy tools to get a feel of what changes/where the important parts of the expression are.

#ask #tutorial #[patrick stewart voice}: acting

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

pleaseee kisses prompts 14, 15, and 33 with patrick zweig 🙏🫠

Sure :D

Prompts: An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it; a kiss so desperate that the two wind around each other, refusing to let go until they are finished; a fierce kiss that ends with a bite on the lip, soothing it with a lick.

Warnings: Fluff; flirty Patrick; fake dating; smooches

Summary: Finding your plus one to a wedding at the last minute on Tinder had been dicey, sure, but you couldn't have anticipated this.

"Would you cut it out?"

"No." Patrick's refusal was muffled as he chowed down on another two mini crab cakes. You glanced around nervously, concerned that anyone you knew might see your plus one shoving every hors d'oeuvre that he could get his hands on into his mouth.

Finding your plus one to a wedding at the last minute on Tinder had been dicey, sure, but you couldn't have anticipated this.

The trade was straightforward: Patrick was your plus one to your friend's wedding, and you let Patrick shower at your place and crash at yours (or cover the cost of a motel for the night—he was cool with either).

But now, you were considering cutting ties early. If Patrick kept this up, then it defeated the whole fricking purpose of having him go with you in the first place. You didn't think that anything could be more embarrassing than showing up to a wedding alone while your ex was attending with his new girlfriend, but the way Patrick was stuffing his face was quickly proving you wrong.

"Seriously," You hissed, leaning in and elbowing him in the side, "You're either gonna choke, or I'm going to choke you."

Patrick grinned as he chewed, dusting off his fingers.

"Okay," He agreed before chasing the swallow with a swig of his beer. "Okay, you're right. I'll slow it down."

"Thank you."

"Need to save room for dinner, anyway. And cake. Are people still doing cake at weddings?"

"Sometimes."

"You think they will?"

"Honestly, they seem more like a dessert bar couple. They'll probably have a little cake for themselves."

"Explains why I haven't seen one." He folded his arms on the high table, glancing around the others mingling at cocktail hour. "Seen the ex yet?"

"No."

"You should've shown me a picture, I could keep an eye out for him, too."

"Better if you don't know what he looks like. Then you can be genuinely surprised if I introduce you."

"You don't trust my acting abilities?"

"With all due respect, you could be Ted Bundy 2.0 for all I know."

"Fake cast and missing puppy story not included."

You smiled in spite of yourself, and Patrick grinned.

"Tell me about yourself," He urged.

"What for?"

"Gotta pass the time somehow—especially if you're going to poo-poo me from the pu pu platter."

"There isn't a pu pu platter in sight."

"Can you just appreciate the joke?"

"It was a fine joke."

"C'mon. I mean, you're funny, you're gorgeous," He raised his hand, waving toward you, "Why does someone like you need to surf Tinder to find a plus one?"

You smiled, looking down at your drink.

"First of all, thank you."

"Anytime."

"Second of all...I don't know, since my ex left me I've been focusing on myself."

"No hoe phase?"

"Hoe—ly shit, you seriously talk to people you don't know like that?" You scoffed.

"I just mean, you know. Sometimes after a breakup, you wanna fuck around a little. Nothing wrong with that. It would explain why you're on Tinder."

"Oh? Is that you're on Tinder?"

"Honestly? No."

"Why, then?"

Patrick shrugged. "I like sex and sometimes I have trouble finding somewhere to sleep."

"How's that working?"

"Better than you'd think."

"Does the sex thing always happen?"

"Not always. I'm happy to crash on a couch."

"Mm."

"Not that I mind it when it happens. Thanks for answering my question, by the way."

"What do you mean?"

"About the hoe phase. You just said 'the sex thing' like it's a creature from the black lagoon."

"I did not—" You began to wind up for the next round of argument, but were cut off by the sound of your name being called. You winced, steeling yourself and urging, "Don't look."

"That the ex?"

"Yes."

"Perfect," Patrick stood up straighter, straightening his jacket. "Showtime."

"You sound way too excited—"

"Hey!" Your ex spoke up behind you, and you slapped a smile on, wheeling around and greeting, "Jeremy, hi!"

"How's it going?" Jeremy began to lean in for a hug, but went still when Patrick curled his arm around your waist. Your stomach flipped at the gesture, keeping your eyes carefully trained on Jeremy's face.

"It's going great, how are you?"

"It's good, it's good."

"Where's Francesca?"

"Oh, she's grabbing a drink."

"Awesome."

"You want another one, baby?"

Patrick's question threw you for a loop for a second, but you shook your head, smiling.

"I'm good, hon, but thanks."

"I don't think we've—met?" Jeremy's voice tipped up, and you had to fight off a laugh.

"I don't think you have. Jeremy, this is Patrick."

"Hi."

You watched Jeremy hold his hand out to shake, but Patrick just tightened his grip on your hip, drawing you a little closer as he offered, "Nice to meet you."

Jeremy's smile faltered as he drew his hand back, tucking it into his pocket.

"You two been together long?"

"Oh, gosh, a few months," You flubbed.

"How'd you, uh—How'd you meet?"

"At a match. I'm a tennis player."

"Oh! You any good?" Jeremy asked.

"He's the best," You answered without missing a beat.

Patrick chuckled softly, nose nudging against your cheek. "You're gonna make me blush, sweetie."

"Good," You smiled at him. A thrill shot through you as Patrick's eyes dipped to your mouth, and before you knew it, he was leaning in for a gentle kiss. You let your eyes slip closed, your lips working tenderly against his. Patrick's hand slid from your hip, sliding lower and palming your ass. You drew back, giving Patrick a warning look before turning to look at Jeremy again as he cleared his throat.

"I should go find Francesca."

"Sure! It was great seeing you."

"You, too—and nice meeting you, Patrick."

"Charmed," Patrick cooed. The two of you watched him turn, disappearing into the crowd.

"...That was good, right?"

"Yeah, it was good...Patrick?"

"Yeah?"

"Get your hand off of my ass."

"Sure." He gave it a pat before turning back to the table, eyeing a passing server's tray. "Is that shrimp cocktail?"

--

"That wasn't so bad."

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Little bit of both." Patrick leaned against your front hall wall. You took him in for a moment, taking in his loose tie, and his jacket where he was holding it over his shoulder.

"I think we were very convincing, so," You tipped your head from side to side. "You're right. It wasn't so bad. Thank you."

"Hey, sure. You can just venmo me."

"What?"

"For the motel."

"Oh! Oh, of course." You fished into your purse for your phone, biting your lip. To be honest, you'd been rethinking that particular part of the plan all evening. You hated to admit it, but Patrick was gorgeous, and had been so goddamn charming. He'd been funny, had made conversation with the other guests at your table, and he'd been perfectly affectionate—kisses on the cheek, the lips; a hand on your back, your waist. A time or two, he'd gazed into your eyes in a way that had felt so sincere and...Real.

Sure, he'd driven you nuts at the beginning of the evening, but he had grown on you.

"Um," You spoke up. "I was, uh...I was thinking."

"What about?"

"About the sex...Thing." You glanced nervously toward Patrick just in time to see his expression melt into flirty intrigue.

"Oh yeah?" He goaded. "What about it?"

You couldn't just come out and say it, right? You set your phone down on the counter and strode toward Patrick before you could talk yourself out of it. You grasped his rough cheeks, drawing him in for a kiss. He went without hesitation, dropping his jacket and curling his arms around you. You groaned softly, sliding a hand up into his hair and letting him steer you back against the wall. You parted your lips as Patrick's tongue probed them gently, his leg slotting between yours and rocking it back and forth.

You rolled your hips down against it, whining softly against his lips as his hands skimmed over your body. Patrick began to draw away, but you leaned up, catching hold of his lower lip with your teeth and giving it a rough bite. His hips jolted against yours, groaning low in his throat as you soothingly slipped your tongue along the skin.

"Do you still want me to Venmo you?" You asked.

"Not really. You still want me to crash on the couch?"

You hummed, pretending to contemplate before you let your hand slide from his curls to his neck.

"How about we start on the couch."

#Patrick Zweig x Reader #Patrick Zweig x You #Patrick Zweig/Reader #Patrick Zweig/You #Patrick Zweig fic #Patrick Zweig imagine #asks #replies #anon #kiss prompts

[judasisgayriot]

2004

#fobedit #fall out boy #peterick #pete wentz #patrick stump #fob #anni edits #very sure someone has gifed this before but. watched this 2004 interview #and it's so darn cute #pete is so endearing here lol #love how he was right. he really did never have another creative relationship like this. he knew!! #also sure pete whatever equivocate and qualify away. you're still adorable ;-; #love patrick joining in to be like 'yeah he takes good care of me :3' lmao #anyway they've always been like this i'm afraid #also important to add that this was like. unprompted lol. nobody asked pete. he just had to tell us this

[glassofpumpkinjuice]

song 2 closeup cam

(des moines 4/3/24)

#i think the less i say about this the better off we'll be. don't ask me any questions. #fall out boy #patrick stump #2ourdust #flashing #my gifs #i said a dif gifset was the pinnacle but actually its this. now ive peaked for real #👁️👁️

[futazolam]

Pete posted another live photo of himself apparently taken by Patrick (cos YOU CAN HEAR HIM GIGGLING!!!)

#fall out boy #fob #patrick stump #pete wentz #peterick #i hate gay people #the only thing gayer than taking a picture of your boyfriend and posting it on your social media is #letting him take a picture of you asking him airdrop it to your phone then post it on your social media

[poppy-metal]

being patrick’s young gf and having a crush on art… just from watching their old games he sometimes rewatches.. always asking questions about their relationship because u know there’s more to the story… anyway patrick lets art fuck u because he can see art needs it. needs a young thing to just ruin<333

stop because patrick would fuck you while you watch arts matches and tell you about that time he taught art how to kiss, how big his dick is, how he knows what art sounds like when he cums, how he bets he'd sound even breathier if he was inside you. taunts you for wanting to see them kiss, for wanting two tongues on your pussy. such a fucking pervert.

maybe arts divored from tashi, maybe they're in an open relationship, either way patrick finds a way to reel him in. (maybe he sucked art off - stroked his pink cock till it was dripping and weeping and told him all about how his little girlfriend - "thinks you're so fucking hot, man. don't you wanna fuck some fresh pussy? she's tight. tighter than my throat..") he finds a way to get that man in your apartment. nervous to start, of course, but not for long. with your eager attention and patricks encouragement it isn't long before you're living out one of your fantasies.

legs in the air with art donaldson stroking deep inside your cunt while patrick zweig kisses him with so much tongue it should be gross.

#ask #me when me when #IT SHOULD BE MEEEEEEEEEEEEE #patrick zweig smut #art donaldson smut #challengers smut

[hugheses]

pov quinn luke ellen damon nico ty trevor alex cole etc etc

#a new addition to the collection today #second one is him asking the devils to draft patrick moynihan. third is him pouting about the interviewer having him go 2 in a mock draft #you get the gist #most spoiled princess of all time because he just does his little pout and everyone gives him what he wants. sickening #jack hughes

[thekintsugikids]

saw patrick striptease in albany and haven’t stopped thinking about it since …….

#patrick arms drove me into a state of female hysteria i cannot be blamed for what i do #patrick stump #fall out boy #fob #my edits.mov #2ourdust #posting this here just in case bc i didn’t really assume there was an audience for these on tumblr!!! #but then andy asked for me to post my last one so!!! idk maybe!!!!!