🆂🆃🅰🆁🆅🅰🆃🅸🅾🅽 ⚰

To be loved is to be seen

dude you’re so insanely talented i can’t

charlieeee! oooo you wanna write vampire artrick headcanons so bad oooooo

andyyyy!!! hello hello UR MY FIRST INBOXER U win... vampire artrick headcanons!!!!

-x- i like to imagine that with a lot of empty time on his hands, patrick would take up woodworking, working in the darkness of the night to craft a large wooden coffin, big enough to fit both him and art. he ladens it with crimson red sheets and pristine duvets, waiting eagerly for art's reaction. "might as well play into the stereotype in style, right?"

-x- they love being indoors, snuggled on the sofa as art's reading, while patrick just toys with art's fingers, interlacing them. sometimes biting, gently, his canines pressing into art's pale skin and leaving marks, like quiet whispers compared to the loud scream that tore from both of their throats the day they bit each other.

-x- they get the bite marks on their neck tattooed too btw <3 just to ensure it's really there forever.

-x- sometimes patrick will hear art crying- he feels the most guilt between the two of them, for the people he's hurt unconsciously and the ones hes left behind. patrick's bad with tears and better with blood, but he does his best, pressing gentle kisses to the hinge of art's jaw and pressing their palms together, firm and grounding. like a silent promise from patrick to art, that he hasnt been hurt yet, and art has no reason to leave him.

-x- i like to think that they both get irrationally jealous over miniscule things, they just show it differently. art gets quiet and sulky, answering in short sentences with a clipped tone. he cant ever stay mad for long, not when patrick's familiar lips crash into his, his tongue forming not words, but something more that makes the blood rush to art's head. patrick's a physically jealous guy, the second he gets art alone he's biting him all over, not caring if he draws blood. it's just more for him to drink up. "no ones gonna know you as much as i do, art. god, you taste so fucking good- no one's gonna taste you like this. you're mine, im yours, we're bound for life."

-x- sex is always an irritating matter, both arguing who gets to be on top or bottom until they give up and just have coin they flip. they keep it in the nightstand drawer. it's a filthy matter, sweat and blood and lube matting their bodies and making them stick together, each rough thrust seeming to meld them tighter, making them one. they bite each other as they orgasm, shoulder or neck or whatever body part is conveniently right there, muffling the sound of their climax as blood trickles out of their mouth.

-x- theyre a freaky ass couple- and patrick initiates most of the freakiness. u know when mgk and megan fox told the media abt her spiky ring that stabbed into her? yeah patrick would get matching ones for the two of them. when he's bored, he'll sidle up to art, take his ring off, and wrap his lips around art's finger, down to the knuckle. he licks up all the blood before giving the pad of art's ring finger a kiss, sliding the ring back on.

-x- art's bad at showing his love. so he does it in small ways, sewing hoods onto the back of patrick's shirts because he's always forgetting to cover himself whenever he goes outside, buying vinyls of artists that patrick's mentioned liking from a few hundred years ago, cleaning up the bites that art's given patrick, placing a bandaid on each mark with a soft kiss.

-x- they've been together for approximately 2,109 years, and they've watched each other grow within all that time. not physically, of course, but in softer ways. the way patrick's curls reach the nape of his neck eventually, and art grows out of his shirts. their favorite pieces of media change with each passing year, and they have a mini library that's in chronological order- the oldest book they have, a poem written on cattle skin by an old friend in the 1600's, and the most recent one, an adam silvera book. they listen to all sorts of music, from quiet classical pieces when cooking to loud rocking beats of waterparks while patrick fucks art harshly, gripping his hips tightly and making the blonde's whines compliment the music. they have assorted art from different centuries hanging on the walls of their cute little cabin, an original jackson pollock, some modern contemporary pieces that patrick scoffs at, a few monet pieces. those are art's favorites, so they're patrick's favorite too

-x- they've been in love for thousands of years, and they're prepared to keep loving for the next million years, until one day, once they're ready, they kill each other. wrapped in each other's arms, they plan on kissing each other with poison on their mouths, staying tight in the embrace when they're ready to let go.

actually craving more vamp!artrick

-bambi

hellooo bambi my love !! sorry this took so long i got super busy but yes ofc the world is your oyster <3 (but bear w me bc i know jack shit abt vampires)

tw: gore, death, violence

patrick hasn't seen art in two weeks. every day, he waits by the corner to walk with art, yet the blonde never shows. he knows art is alive, they still text, but he hasn't seen his friend's face in ages. eventually, he knows he has to confront him, stepping to the front door and knocking three times.

"who is it?" art's voice can be heard, muffled by the door in between them. he sounds.. okay. maybe a little nervous or frantic, but he doesnt sound lile he's dying.

patrick leans his head against the door, knocking his forehead against it. "me. open the door, art."

there's a wet schlck from the inside of the house. "busy! text you later!" he definitely sounds frantic, his words coming out whimpery and rushed.

patrick sighs, knocking again. "art, let me in," he insists, fingers digging into his pockets to wrap around the cold metal key that art had given him months ago- probably didnt even remember patrick had them.

"i said im busy!"

patrick rolls his eyes and digs the key into the lock, twisting it until he hears a click. "im coming in, asshole," he calls out, opening the door to see-

art.

his golden halo of curls spattered with crimson, hands stained red. his face is covered in tears, creating clear rivulets through the blood that was stuck between his lashes. on the floor was a body, mangled from the neck up, just torn up flesh hanging onto gristled bone.

art's hands are shaking, nailbeds crusted with blood. "...i didnt know you had a key," he whispers, new tears forming in his eyes.

patrick's in shock- his sweet, docile, lamb of a friend, covered head to toe in blood, kneeling over a body that patrick could only assume art had killed. "i made a copy four months ago," he rasps out, taking a careful step closer. he can see art's canines- sharp and deadly, gleaming between the plush pink of his lips. "are you- okay?"

it all spills out of art then- the way he'd been attacked a few weeks prior, punched and beaten in the park until someone's teeth had sunk into his neck. he's changed since then, he explains tearfully to patrick, grimy hands gripping onto patrick's shoulders, a crazed look in his eyes.

"i don't know whats wrong with me," he whimpered, fearful gaze flitting to the body on the floor. "i just- i swear i-i blacked out, and when i came to- nana- nana-" he sobs, and patrick sees it now- light grey curls, matted together with blood. his stomach twists, and he has to force back bile.

"dude..." it's shitty. patrick isn't sure what exactly to say. not only are vampires real, but his best friend is one now. doomed to live forever. "...bite me."

it comes out without him meaning to. but as the words sink in, patrick realizes thats exactly what he wants, to live alongside art for life. eternally with his other half, his one true love.

art looks up at him, still wiping at his nose and leaving red streaks. "what-?"

"bite me," patrick repeats, pulling art close and tilting his head, exposing the spanse of flesh. art can hear the blood pumping underneath the skin, patrick's heart thumping loudly. "do it, art."

"pat- i- i don't- i can't-" art's frantic, tears spilling down non-stop.

patrick pulls art forward, wedging his mouth open by shoving his fingers past his lips, exposing his sharp canines. he leans his neck against the point, waiting for art to sink his teeth in.

the blonde can't help it, the tempt of flesh beneath him driving him insane, overshadowing his need for anything else- he bites down. hard.

patrick screams, and art screams along for him.

they've become whole now.

You keep saying you came here because Art needed matches… I think you came for something else. You think I came here for you? You think I came here to throw it all away for you? Maybe you just wanted to see me. I have seen you, you look like shit. 

ZENDAYA & JOSH O'CONNOR as TASHI DUNCAN & PATRICK ZWEIG in CHALLENGERS (2024) dir. Luca Guadagnino

california by beabadoobea but it’s patrick zweig from 2007 to 2019

thinking abt the color choices in challengers... luca guadagnino ur such a genius and i love u forever...

using art as a main example because i see it most in him but the scenes of him in 2019, pre patrick reunion, the colors are bland and neutral, as if reflecting his life back to him. even when he does wear colors (his blue and white uniqlo) its only ever small accents. the colors are never bright or happy or super in your face, they're just sort of.. there. like art is in his marriage and in the tennis world. hes nothing really special when hes doing this.

the scenes above- his match with patrick, the motel scene, and atlanta are the ones i find the most interesting color-wise.

in the tennis match, he's still only wearing small accents of color, but his surroundings are much brighter and contrast against him, making him stand out- playing with patrick brought that small spark back to his playing.

the motel scene is so obvious, the constant need and longing that all three characters feel for each other seems to make the room ebb and glow with the warm lighting, the contrasting colors of tashi's neon pink, patrick's mint green, and art's baby blue making an unbalanced mosh pit of colors that shouldnt mean anything but do.

atlanta scene, arts fiancee is LITERALLY cheating on him and his ass knows this- but to just know patrick is nearby, that their sick fucked up triad has a hope for returning brings some color back.

its like the mere idea of having both patrick and tashi around brings this sort of energy back into art that can be seen through the coloring. it cant only be one- it has to be both pat and tash, all three of them connected once again for the color to return to art's eyes

behold. my muse

heavy is the head…

YELLOWJACKETS (2021–)

CHALLENGERS (2024) dir. Luca Guadagnino

Fuckin' snake! Honestly, I'm proud of you. I'd be doing the same thing.