#patrick 001.

[astridlius]

Astrid hummed a little in simple acknowledgement of the information he was supplying, though she couldn't have felt less like any of it applied to her. She wasn't a boy, she wasn't old, she wasn't rich, and she'd probably rather die than let one of those things touch her lips. The Irish thing though — that was an Irish accent she was hearing, right? — that was cool. She decided to focus on that. "So there are a lot of old rich fucks where you're from? What'd they do to you that makes you want to say 'fuck 'em' from, whatever, five thousand miles away?"

@pxtrickbalfe

patrick nods. however, any disapproval probably wouldn't of really stopped him from smoking anyway. he'd smoked long enough that the closest people in his life knew he wasn't planning to stop any time soon. at the mention of the cigar, patrick holds what was left of it up in the air between his fingers. "usually no, they're sold for way more than one would assume they're worth." he returns the cigar to his lips, "they're 'old boys club' kinda cigars. i like to think about how mad the old fucks would get about me burnin' one outside a night club."

@astridlius

[pennysylvester]

i can't be everything to everyone, who do you talk to when you can't talk to no one ➝ solo.

TAGGING ➝ Penny Sylvester, with mentions of Logan Clarington (@paramediclogan), Patrick Flanagan (@patrick-flanagan), Alex Washington (@alex-washington-rackets) & Emmy Corcoran (@emmycorcoran).

LOCATION ➝ Penny and Logan's living room.

TIME FRAME ➝ 10/25, early afternoon (but starts out with mentions of the night before).

WARNINGS ➝ Just a lot of angst, mentions of cheating, I guess a scared dog?

SUMMARY ➝ Penny has been on the verge of a breakdown for years, and she finally allows herself to do it.

Penny had gotten home late last night, traces of her tryst lingering deeper than just her skin. The house was silent, dark, its calmness broken only by the running shower water as Penny stood beneath it, letting it wash away what should never have been there in the first place. She'd towel dried her hair, then slipped quietly into bed beside her husband, eyes growing misty as she watched how peacefully he slept. The salty tear to roll down her temple, wet her ear and soak her pillow wasn't fuelled by guilt or sadness, and maybe that was the problem: she didn't feel guilty at all.

Running into Patrick in the bar had been a blessing. She hadn't sought him out, he'd just...happened. Materalized when she'd needed someone, anyone to take her mind off of the shit storm brewing inside. This life with Logan, she'd resigned herself to it, accepted that this was it, she didn't have to be happy. She could find fulfilment in other areas; her passion for her job, her devotion to her family, her need to be everything to everyone... And maybe that was the problem, too. She was only one person, stretched entirely too thin already, but Penny had never been a quitter, so she wasn't going to start now.

Having her cake and eating it too... it wasn't okay. But somehow, it was. She wasn't happy at home, she knew Logan wasn't, so maybe they could both just continue to do this dance, put up this facade of the loving, happy husband and wife, then get their true happiness on the side, just like Penny had last night, or last year with Alex. But sex wasn't happiness—sure, it quelled her need for affection some, but it wasn't real affection. It was attention, and while Penny craved that too, it wasn't the crux of what she really wanted. Only one person could give her that, and the more Penny did this, the more she danced with Logan and fumbled beneath sheets that weren't her own, the looser her grip became on the only person that actually mattered.

Emmy wasn't the only one to have expected a reunion at some point; Penny had, too. But then she'd met Logan, she'd gotten swept up in the idea of the fairytale life, the most attainable option. She didn't have to work for Logan; Logan couldn't hurt her and she couldn't hurt him, because he didn't love her and she didn't love him, not really. They loved the idea of each other, of that fantasy come to life, and somewhere deep down, Penny always knew it would be temporary. She'd live out that temporary high, then she'd come home and Emmy would be waiting for her.

But Emmy wasn't a fantasy; Emmy was real. She was a person with hopes and fears and feelings, and while Penny knew on some level that she'd screwed up her second chance with her a while ago, it had taken up until their conversation in her office to shatter that final glimmer of hope. Emmy hated her. She hated her. And they were done, Emmy said they were done and whatever they'd once had was over, and maybe Penny didn't know how to accept that, but she was trying. She was trying so hard, searching for that affection she craved in any place she could find it, and without even trying, she was leaving destruction in her path.

Alex.

His baby.

Logan.

His time.

Emmy... her life. Emmy was glass, the most precious, fragile kind, and she cracked and shattered in Penny's hand until she, and the illusion of the two of them together, turned to sparkling dust.

Everything in Penny's path turned to dust, and she'd done all she could to ignore it, to distract her mind with work or parenting her adult siblings, or climbing into the bed of a stranger she'd met in a dimly lit dive bar. It wasn't until now, when she sat in her living room with puffy eyes and the house cloaked in silence, the sleeves of her sweater pulled down over her hands to grip tightly in her fingers, that she really let herself see it. Her lip quivered, her eyes glazed with an overflowing pool of salty tears, her body filled with self-hatred.

And Penny finally broke down.

The new vase, the one she'd bought just yesterday to replace the one lost to the earthquake, took the brunt of her downfall. Penny cried and gripped her hands until her palms were decorated with deep crescent moons from her nails. She didn't just cry, she sobbed. Loud, heartbroken, ugly sobs, her sadness turning to anger, then to frustration, and Penny stood and grabbed the closest thing to her, the vase, and watched as it hurtled towards the wall, smashing into small, shiny shards that scattered on the floor.

It wasn't the sound of shattering that brought her back to her senses, but a terrified cry, and Penny turned to see Zoe backing up into the kitchen.

"No." Penny shook her head, guilt washing over her. Zoe was Logan's dog, Penny barely even liked the thing, but she found herself lowering to her level now, kneeling before her and dying inside as she watched her shake. "I'm sorry," Penny sobbed, trying to motion the dog closer, but she only backed up further. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to do that. I didn't mean to scare you."

A knock on the door caught both of their attention, but rather than running to see who it was like she usually would, Zoe only continued to whine. Penny was in no state for company, but the knocking persisted, and Penny, everything to everyone, began to run scenarios through her head. What if it was one of her siblings, what if something had happened and they needed her? It was that thought and that thought alone that pulled her from her knees, and had her frantically wiping at her watery, red, puffy eyes as she headed for the door.

"I'll be right back, okay?" She said to a still cowering Zoe. "I'm so sorry, Zo."

In the grand scheme of things, apologizing to the dog was the least of her worries.

[unaloid]

i did crazy makeup for the first time and felt like something possessed me

[lighthouseas]

"when one kills, he does not simply kill. he takes everything from his victims. everything they are and everything they ever will be. he takes their memories. their abilities."

[frankcarlisle]

Frank couldn't help chuckle that fell from his lips then. "Everyone has their triggers, I guess. Even well-behaved dogs," he offered with a shrug, glancing down at the pups. It wasn't that he hated dogs -- no, there were definitely some cute ones out there -- he just wasn't an animal person in general. Call him an anomaly of his generation of pet-lovers, but Frankie had always been of the mind that if it wasn't his own flesh and blood, he didn't want to deal with it. "Mmh, well, guess you found her new favorite place," the male remarked wryly, watching as the canines fell into line besides the other. This emitted another squeal from Emmy, who was practically foaming at the mouth to get closer to them. God, he was going to have his hands full as she got older, wasn't he? "That's good, that's good. Less insurance you gotta go through -- though, I doubt you'd be able to file a claim against 'em." He smirked.

A grin spread across his cheeks as the man offered the little girl a chance to meet the dogs properly, pressing a hand to her back to urge her forward. "Go on," he told her, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Emmy gingerly approach them with a timid hand. "They're real beautiful, aren't they, Em?" She nodded then, and the former ballplayer looked up to meet the man's gaze. "I'm Frankie, by the way," he extended his arm, giving the other a firm shake, "and this is Emmy. How about we head over to the coffee cart on the corner for a fresh one, yeah? Goin' without a cup of joe in the morning is practically sacrilegious, and I'm due for a cup anyway. Our treat."

Embarrassed would’ve been an understatement for whatever rush of emotions Patrick felt upon quite literally falling to a stranger’s feet. He was quick to get back onto his own, thanking the other in a rush as he tried his best to regain his composure and hopefully at least some of his dignity. What was even more humbling, was that he knew better. Patrick had dogs in his life for as long as he could remember – even back on the farm he grew up on, there’d always been one or two dogs around, leaving out the countless ones he’d met working as a vet. “I swear – and yes, I know this is a very cliché thing to say as a dog owner but she’s usually very calm,” Patrick insisted under a breathless chuckle, his palms smoothing over the front of his coat before he reached up to drag his now free hand over his jaw. “No – no, it looked worse than it was, I promise. She just caught me off-guard but by god, she loves squirrels,” he said, as if that was a proper excuse and he realized that once again, he should explain. He told his dogs to sit and they listened immediately, settling calmly next to him. One to his left, the other to his right. “She thinks they’re her buddies and they’re playing a game of catch,” he told the man but looked over to the girl accompanying him. “It’s her favorite,” Patrick added with a smile. “But uh – no. No broken screens or bones, I think. Just a tragic loss of a perfectly brewed coffee.”

He tugged on the dogs’ leashes lightly when he realized that the child was trying to pet them. “Stay,” he whispered under his breath and thankfully, the dogs remained still, merely their tails started wagging with excitement which was exactly what he’d expected to happen. Nothing more, nothing less, much to the child’s and her father’s luck. “It’s perfectly fine,” he assured. “Once again, very cliché, but they’re good dogs. Your dad’s right though,” Patrick said, leaning down to retrieve the now empty cup of coffee to throw away later but also to get on the girl’s level, a gentle smile slowly replacing the frown that had been plastered on his features before. “Not every dog is patient and kind like these two. It’s better to ask first before touching them but if it’s okay with you two – you can go ahead. This one’s Meadow,” he told her, gesturing at the white Samoyed. “And this one’s Jet,” Patrick added, getting back up before gently patting the black Labrador’s head.

[henrysglock]

Henry and Billy speak and stand and smile exactly the same way because Henry is possessing him.

Heather also speaks and acts like Henry in certain ways too because she’s being manipulated by Henry via the shadow particles…

because Henry and the Mindflayer are separate from the shadow particles…

because the shadow particles are the weapon that Henry uses in order to be a Mindflayer…

which is why they all eventually melt into the Fleshflayer and Billy stays separate…

because the Flayed all have the shadow monster in them, which Henry uses to be a Mindflayer and manipulate them…

but Billy is Henry’s host, so he stays separate…

[ac1numa]

@americanedpsycho, patrick bateman required a starter from nina riva.

nr. in the heart of new york city, amid the dazzling lights and upscale ambiance of a trendy restaurant, nina found herself seated at an exclusive table. dressed in an ensemble that effortlessly combined sophistication with a touch of edge, she radiated an air of success and confidence. her eyes, sharp and observant, scanned the room, taking in the hustle and bustle of the city's elite. it was the first time she found herself entangled witth the elite of manathan. something she was sure her father would be proud of. something she should hate but deep down, she has to admit that it was a change. she needed that. envied that even. as she leisurely sipped on her martini, she couldn't help but notice a familiar face in the crowd, patrick bateman . a man known for his meticulous attention to detail and his own brand of charisma. his presence intrigued her, and a subtle smile curved her lips as she lifted her glass in a silent toast. " patrick, " she greeted, her voice carrying a blend of warmth and intrigue. " what a surprise to see you here. i hope you're not just here for the ambiance. perhaps you're seeking something a bit more… exhilarating tonight ? " her eyes glinted with a playful challenge, aware of the underlying currents that often defined encounters in the fast-paced world they both navigated in.

[simonvaswani]

@nx-bad-days​

Although Simon had it in him to wake up early, he was keen on taking advantage of those days he didn’t have to. He’d rarely been granted the liberty of sleeping in as a child, and now that he could he tried his best to make the most of it-- except on special occasions. Normally Pat was the one to wake Simon up early with a cup of coffee in hand, but after a particularly grueling project in his class, Simon wanted to do something nice for him. He’d set his alarm, or rather, several alarms to make sure he was awake before Pat was, and had spent the better half of an hour in the kitchen since.’

With one hand holding a plate and the other holding two mugs of coffee, he used his elbow to open the door to Patrick’s room. “Morning,” he called out sitting on the edge of the bed and placing the omelet he’d made on the bedside table. “Hungry? I made you breakfast.” 

[gaffns]

INBOX: 𝐃𝐑. 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐑 ⸻  @frontlincs [ david hadler ] 🔥: for our muses to cozy up in front of the fireplace.

the holiday movie elf was on the television screen in a low volume, as the fireplace burned some wood inches away. cozy knit throw on top of them as they rest ( & snuggle ) comfortably on the couch. snowflakes were falling down hard on the city outside. patrick took a deep breath, looking at david lovingly, resting his head on his partners shoulder.

❛ hard to believe christmas is a little under two weeks away. ❜ patrick murmured softly as he looks at the screen for a brief moment. neither of them were really watching will ferrell put maple syrup on his spaghetti, they were just enjoying each other's company. it was rare that they were both home at the same time, even having enough time for nice dinner. it was even a bonus that they both managed to get the day off for the next day, they were not even on call. because of that, they were able to do something special.

❛ did you want to do anything special, or fun tomorrow? ❜ he questioned as he glances to dvid just above the rim of his glasses.

[victoriousfidelity]

@americanedpsycho said: "You're wrong." two word sentence starters. | accepting.

"It does happen, on occasion." Nicole concedes with a smile, taking a sip from her drink. "No, but seriously - enlighten me? I'm not one of those people who is so precious about their opinion that they aren't open to having it changed."

[arrowfrozen]

@divinelyembraced

after tasting the outside life, even if only for a short while compared to the time they'd spent in camp jupiter, being back in some camp.. was bittersweet. sure, he had fond memories of camp jupiter & they didn't have to leave, per se. life had been fine. they'd spent many years honing their skills, had found to each other, so it wasn't like nathan had needed to get away, but they'd sat down & spoken about it. giving mortal life another chance now that they could defend themselves, so to say. they tried. at least they wouldn't grow old wondering if they shouldn't have tried again.

getting settled in this new camp would take some time, he … felt. it was so different. so much more lax from the looks of it. boreas' cabin wasn't necessarily his favorite place to be, but he assumed he'd be moving into patrick's anyway. he didn't marry to spend his nights alone in bed & he couldn't be making patrick sleep in a house made of ice. he wouldn't try. finding him was easy, nathan knew him better than anybody else in this world. beach would be his first stop. surely. nathan found him there, as expected, alone & just watching the water. ghost was trotting alongside him as they approached him, "hey, thought you'd be here. did you check out your cabin yet?" he was rambling a little, just enjoying the sight of the sea, but glanced to his side, blue hues hoped to meet blue in return. patrick felt like .. well, a little off. "you good?"

[waterforlorn]

location: beach who? future ocean bro babe @divinelyembraced

christmas was approaching in a rapid pace, which meant … lev had been back in camp for almost …a year? did he make progress? was he… doing better? could he say that for himself? could he claim he'd improved since coming here? other than getting involved with the forge's son… that was. not that that wasn't an impressive step in a direction lev never thought he'd go, but it wasn't quite what he wondered about. when he came back to camp, he had … basic control of his element & now he was doing better - for sure, but .. had he made the maximum progress? or did he need to optimize his training… in a way? could he? what else could he possibly be doing anymore?

practice. practice. practice.

lev had chosen the best & the worst moment to be falling into a deep mental epiphany, because he had been at the beach in front of the poseidon cabin, practicing & he hadn't even been doing too badly. in fact, he'd been doing okay, but with his focus out the window & doubts creeping up on him, lev lost control of the wave he'd been bending left, right & upwards. eyes shot to the side to look for potential casualties & he found one one near proximity - close enough to the shore to be hit with the full brunt of it. fuck, fuck, fuck.

"move!" taking off in the guy's direction to pick up the shambles of yet another failed attempt at belonging, he couldn't …believe the guy was just staring at it like he wasn't about to get crushed.

[sealprotected]

@ofwings-andclaws cont. x

it wasn't so much that prince was nosey, or that he poked his head into issues that didn't really concern him - or shouldn't concern him... really. not unless they concerned patrick, which was when prince decided that secrets shouldn't be secrets & instead be shared knowledge, especially after he'd seen nathan ....with someone who wasn't patrick & that definitely had been more than just .... a random, meeting.

patrick didn't say a lot about how things went with his fiancé but ...did they have issues? was what he'd seen something else & there was a really good explanation for it? he'd tried to get more information from patrick, but ... he refused. why? they looked happy together... usually & they worked together, too. man, he didn't get it.

"has anyone ever told you that you shouldn't keep secrets from your little brother? because he'll find out anyway." & he wouldn't stop until he did. nathan & his brother were the best couple he knew. ever since he was little he knew they were meant to be together & whatever was happening... shouldn't be. unless he was imagining things? was he so blind trying to find love himself that he let his own sadness taint their relationship? no. no no. nate used to be over a lot, but now he isn't anymore & he hadn't seen them... really cozy in a long while. "you can tell me... you know? i'm not a child anymore."

[rileyrp]

elliot couldn't help but smirk at patrick’s response, pleased by the confirmation of his correct answer. "i thought as much," he replied, his tone as assured and confident as patrick’s demeanour. the fellow escort hadn’t disappointed him yet, and with the night still young, there was plenty of opportunity for patrick to keep him on edge, making him eager and needy. elliot couldn’t think of a better way to spend his time. "and i do aim to please," he added with a smirk, as if to seal his confidence. patrick pulled him effortlessly into the crowd, the anticipation crackling between them. elliot was certain that patrick was about to touch him, to drive him wild, make him see stars, and perhaps even beg for more. elliot had never been, and never would be, above begging.

the kiss was everything he had hoped for — better, even. combined with patrick’s words, it left his head spinning. elliot kissed patrick back with equal fervour, his arms wrapping loosely around patrick's neck. the heat between their bodies was undeniable. when patrick's fingertips grazed over elliot’s length, he inhaled sharply. he’d been hard for a while, so any touch felt electric, and he was desperate for more. each flick of patrick’s wrist, every subtle movement, squeeze, and tug sent waves of desire through elliot. he bit down on his lower lip, trying to stifle his moans, but his hips instinctively rocked forward, and his body’s reactions were hard to miss. "fuck," he hissed, his voice low but unmistakable. he tangled his fingers in patrick’s hair, gripping tightly as he rolled his hips subtly into patrick’s hand, his desire palpable.

I can be quiet. That was the only response Patrick was willing to hear from the other escort’s lips. Sure, they had the game to settle but it could wait a little long for the results. There was just something in Elliot’s eyes that lured him in, that made him want to lose any and all control. It was going to be quite the challenge to merely resort to his hand, even more so when Patrick wasn’t exactly coy when it came to drop on his knees and take what he craved. But as much as he would love to have Elliot throbbing between his lips and on his tongue, that was a show for a far less crowd. A party of two, considering how things were quickly escalating between the two of them. “That’s the right answer, Elliot. I did not expect anything less.” With a lingering smile, Patrick took the other man’s hand and pulled him into the middle of the crowd. Let them dance a bit, let the crowd around them keep doing what they were doing while the two of them would be too damn lost inside their own little bubble to even care.

“I can feel how hard you are.” The escort pulled another of his trademark smirks before he pulled Elliot into a heated kiss, one that held all the promises of things they could get up to that night. It started with a game but it had become so much bigger than that. So much bigger than the two of them. “Try to be quiet.” Still dancing close to Elliot, Patrick’s hand slithered past the waistband of the other man’s pants, not even bothering with opening them until his fingertips brushed over something particularly hot and particularly hard. A little wrist movement was all it took for his grasp to close around the apparently imposing member and even though the constrictive space made it hard for him to maneuver, Patrick slowly began to stroke just the wet, pulsing tip of the other man’s cock. “Can’t wait to have you in my mouth later.” Never one to mince words, Patrick bite down on his bottom lip as he readjusted his hand for a more intimate and assuring grip. Limited movements but enough to jerk Elliot off – not even bothering to pay attention to the crowd. Fuck them. “You’re so fucking hard, baby… It’s making me throb…”

[sofaleandthesix]

@sofaleverse — helene & patrick.

naquela noite, a vanderbilt estava se sentindo patética. encontros às cegas eram algo que costumava ser o alvo de muito julgamento de sua parte, que não enxergava qual era o sentido de se encontrar com um outro indivíduo quando nem sequer conhecia uma única informaç��o sobre a pessoa e, assim, não teria uma forma de medir se aquilo seria um desperdício de seu tempo ou não. sempre que ouvia de carolina as suas histórias sobre situações em que vivenciou experiências assim, era quase como se uma parte de si ficasse horrorizada com a ideia de se indispor a uma noite potencialmente tão desagradável, por estar presa em um encontro com um completo estranho poderia ser. portanto, era até irônico que estivesse se tornando parte de uma combinação como aquela naquele sábado à noite. a razão não era uma que teria como colocar em poucas palavras caso questionada sobre a sua mudança de posicionamento, porém, a considerável falta de movimentação significativa em sua vida amorosa nos últimos meses - anos, caso tivesse de ser franca - poderia talvez ser utilizada como uma justificativa, caso a necessidade surgisse - por mais que preferisse muito mais simplesmente desviar do assunto nesse caso. a escolha do local era uma maneira de se sentir um pouco mais em controle da situação, visto que havia exigido ter a palavra final na decisão. assim, aguardava o rapaz em um bar com vista para a praia, próximo à marinha, local que estava acostumada a frequentar para conviver com os demais de seu círculo social.

os minutos em que o aguardava pareciam não passar nunca e, por mais que estivesse adiantada em sua chegada, começava a se questionar se o tal desconhecido não iria dar as caras nunca. uma ideia que ela pautava unicamente naquela temerosidade que se instaurava em seu interior por ter de lidar com uma situação com a qual não estava acostumada, nem conseguiria controlar o resultado. quando percebeu o aproximar de alguém em sua mesa, na parte ao ar livre do estabelecimento, imediatamente endireitou a postura e se virou para enfim conhecer quem seria a sua companhia. acabando em questão de segundos por se dar conta de que conhecia muito bem aquele rosto, por mais que a diferença de alguns anos nele fosse notável. não era nenhuma surpresa, visto que a última vez em que o tinha visto fora quando tinha dezessete anos. “patrick?!” murmurou, confusa. não apenas pela presença dele, mas pela coincidência em que estavam envolvidos. “o que você estava fazendo aqui?” a surpresa mútua, contudo, a levava a ter certeza de que não estaria imaginando coisas. “não me diga que é você o ‘amigão’ do ashton… ninguém chegou a me contar nada sobre quem seria, eu não imaginava que acabaria… bom, nem sabia que você estava morando aqui.” vincou o cenho, sem saber muito bem o que falar. “da última vez que ouvi de você, estava batendo perna na europa.”

[ac1numa]

❛ your heart is beating so fast right now. ❜ / nina

nr. it wasn't the first time that her heart skips beat around patrick's presence. her organ seemed to know when someone as interesting and as intriguing as him was around, that was for sure. it didn't stop nina to smile at him, her eyes meeting patrick's, with a hint of amusement. " well, patrick, you've got a sharp eye. it seems my heart has decided to take the lead in this conversation. must be eager to match the pace of your intriguing company. or perhaps it's just doing its happy dance. it knows quality interaction when it feels it. " she chuckled, allowing a playful tone to lace her words, " either way, i hope it's not causing too much of a disturbance in your sophisticated world, mr. bateman. " / @americanedpsycho.