#and the same thing is gonna happen to art AND WE TOLD YOU THIS

[talizorah]

not gonna lie it’s hard to be like “yay artists standing up for themselves” when you see artists fighting against machine learning and artifical intelligence but you’re a translator who has been fighting (and losing) countless battles of artifical intelligence taking over your specific field of work while no one gives a shit

[teaboot]

This is gonna sound rather conceited but I feel like it highlights an issue we have in Art.

I'm good at art. I've never had a hard time making art. I started using crayons before I could walk. Painting, Beadwork, sculpture, sketching, stippling, whatever- once I have a feel for the material, it doesn't take long to start doing what I want with it. It's been a common theme my whole life.

(Y contrast I'm awful at things like dancing, performance, sports, etc- in all things there is balance, right?)

Now, I've taught myself to use so many artistic mediums now that I KNOW how to most efficiently integrate them into the brain database. Once you really *understand* a material, it's much like memorizing the layout of your house, or flexing a muscle, or something in-between- it becomes PART of your brain in a way I cant quite articulate. But to get there involves just fucking around for a bit doing nothing in particular.

And I've found, especially in group settings, that nobody seems to be able to see you make something badly and leave you alone. Even if you say you're fine, you don't want help, you're happy, you're having fun, it's fine, they gotta ride your ass and hover.

I was at a class the other day for something I hadn't done before. The medium was one I've never used, so once the instructor told us the basics I started experimenting with weight, gravity, texture, viscosity, saturation, temperature, etc. The instructor had given enough info to know what was dangerous and what was safe, and beyond that I just wanted to absorb what I could about it.

And no insult to the instructor, but they kept checking in. Which was fine the first few times.

But then, without asking me what I was trying to do, started giving tips. That I told them I was grateful for but didn't really need just yet. If I had a question, I'd ask.

But they kept coming over. And touching my shit. And manipulating my project. And touching my hands. And using my tools. Without fucking asking.

And this happens every time. EVERY TIME. And by now I know the best way to get them to fuck off is to make something way beyond their expectations so they know I'm capable, then go back to doing what I want.

So I did. I wanted to keep having fun and learning, but instead I made something beautiful that I really didn't want to make, and wasted my time, and really didn't learn what I wanted to learn at all. I knew the formula to create a beautiful thing, so I followed that formula the same way I have a hundred times before, and didn't get to try anything spontaneous or ugly or exciting, just so I could be left alone.

And I know when I was a kid, I was aware aware people saw me puttering alone on something ugly assumed I had a special issue and treated me like I was stupid because of that. (I was neurodivergent.) And at at time I knew that I could do a neat trick for them like a trained pony and they'd go, "Oh, surely they aren't defective if they can do something like that!" And piss off.

But what if I hadn't known how to do that?

What if I hadn't been talented, or "special"?

What if I'd been just any other average kid trying to learn, and I couldn't pop something pretty out of my ass to get them off my back?

My problem my whole life has been that I haven't been allowed to make anything ugly in peace. I'm capable of beauty, so I have to make beauty, or get stepped on. And once people see what I can do, they get loud about it. "Look at this! Look what they did! We all know who the best is, don't we?". And that used to feel good, but it's tiring.

And how many people like me just wanted to play? Just wanted to have fun and experiment? Who were having fun with no goal in mind, or just took longer to learn, who gave up because of all the obnoxious helpers breathing down their neck with no way to shake them off?

How many of us are made to feel defective because we aren't doing things beautifully?

I have a lovely piece of art I didn't want to make.

I think I'm gonna frame it.*

(*I think I'm gonna burn it in my yard.)

[poppy-metal]

after the whole patrick lending you to art for forgiveness ordeal…… you are so unbelievably embarrassed. it’s bad enough patrick knows what you’re like, what you really want from a man, but now art knows? art, who you’ve spoken to maybe 5 times, knows the lows, knows how far you would degrade yourself to make the man you love happy. art, a mere stranger, knows that when you’re used your pussy gets soaking wet. when you’re disrespected you squeeze like you’re afraid he’ll leave. and being the kind warm person he is, he smiles at you, he waves at you like you’re friends. like you know anything about the other except for what they feel like on the inside. and god, he hadn’t even used protection. he came inside you in front of your boyfriend, and now he was free to roam the halls and smile and wave and come up to patrick and hang out and you got so quiet and so flushed it was like you were the third wheel. what really got you was how much you liked it. you liked being used. you wanted art to fuck you as hard as he needed to forgive patrick, you wanted him to hurt you. but something about it left a craving, a lingering desire. he didn’t like you like you liked him. you wanted him, him, but the only reason he did it that night was to get back at patrick, to set things right. you understood why he was so mean, but the docile and nagging part of yourself wanted to be so good he had to be nice. nice, kind, warm art. the art patrick got. you wanted that.

patrick, ever observant, knows exactly how you feel. knows you want more, but don’t know how to ask. knows art wants more, because once they’re reconciled, best friends talk. started off as a joke over beer, asking would it be so bad if it happened again? decided it wouldn’t be bad. it would be really really good. and maybe it would be even better if it happened again and again and again.

so they pull you into arts bedroom, saying they wanna “talk”, but they mainly talk to each other about you. you sit between them, cheeks burning, as patrick palms the squashed fat of your ass, as he’s allowed to do, while art gently pushes your hair away from your neck and breathes there, as you didn’t know he was allowed to do.

“patrick told me you’re embarrassed about what we did. is that true, baby?”

baby. you shudder and look to patrick, panicked, but he only smiles. he raised his eye brows and on command you answer.

“yes.”

“i’m really sorry about that. aren’t i, pat?”

“mhm. he wants to make it up to you. you don’t have to be embarrassed you know.”

their hands and mouths moved like magnets closer to your skin, patrick pawing at your thigh and ass as arts nose brushes your throat as he kisses your collarbone.

“ok,” you say, barely over a whisper.

“ok? ok what?”

“ok. make it up to me.”

such a brave command in such a weak voice. they both laugh, and the air tickles your neck.

they are going to take good care of you. their good little girl

im gonna bite you like im really gonna do it im gonna bite you im gonna sink my teeth in you

brain short circuiting actually head empty just patrick holding your thighs to your chest so art can eat slowly at your cunt like the slut he is - flashing those blue eyes at you. like hes cataloging your expressions, finding what places he has to tongue at to make your thighs twitch, your toes curl.

patricks not a bystander either. he bands one thick arm beneath your knees to keep you in place, his other hand reaching up to cup your jaw - turn your head to his so he can see you too. "you like my friends tongue on your pussy?" when your chest heaves and your eyes dart away he grins and leans in, "you dont have to lie. i think it's fucking hot."

then his tongue is in your mouth and you're opening for him, splitting your lips to let him inside at the same time arts tongue parts your lower lips to lap across your entrance. you cant help how your cunt squeezes, trying to drag him inside. he pulls back.

"can i eat her ass?"

you gasp when patrick lets you go. chin wet with spit from his thorough tongue fuck of your mouth. it isn't lost on you how art didn't bother to ask you, he asks patrick. that makes you squirm. arch back into patricks hard body which rumbles with a low laugh.

"you're gonna make her fall in love with you if you do that. she loves having her ass played with. think she'd be happy if i just fucked that hole and didn't touch her pussy at all."

art is gripping his cock through his boxers. squeezing the head. "fuck." his eyes finally meet yours and he licks his lips. "you want me to?"

as much as you do love it, its still embarrassing to admit. its such an intimate place. even now you can feel your rim clenching like its shy. shy but eager for the attention.

"o-okay." you tell him. and patrick reaches down, thick hands spreading your cheeks till all of you is exposed. wet cunt still open from the work art put in with his mouth, the seam between your asscheeks spread to reveal your little twitching hole. it winks repeatedly at arts stare. "please," you whine, the humiliation making you run hot, burning burning burning between them. you cover your face with your hands when art starts to lean in, pink lips parted, face flushed, blonde locks wild around his head like a halo.

his cherubic beauty is what makes the act so fucking lewd. and when the touch of his tongue flutters against your tight hole you cry out, high and whiney.

"aw," patrick says in faux sympathy. you know he doesn't actually feel bad. you can feel the hard length of his dick at your back. he loves when you're embarrassed. thinks its cute. "you're gonna make her cry, art."

you hear art moan, feel the vibration of it between your cheeks that patrick is keeping spread wide - his tongue is lapping at your rim steadily, soft coaxing licks that has the furled muscle relaxing for him. hes evil, theres nothing cherubic about him at all, you decide. hes the devil.

"little babies gonna cry cause her ass is getting tonguefucked -" lips press against the side of your head. gentle. "all your secrets are out now, baby. we both know what a fucking pervert you are. open your eyes and watch art lick your hole, c'mon."

and like the puppet on strings you are, you listen.

[castiwls]

old habits die screaming - p.z & a.d

Paring; patrick x reader, art x ex!reader

Requested; no

Synopsis;you were finally happy. You had a good thing going with someone for the first time in ages but he just had to show up.

Warnings; mentions of pregnancy/babies, infidelity, kinda toxic reader & art I guess

Notes;Not much Patrick in this (sorry) but he is there and plays a large part so I'm tagging it as both of them. also this is long 4.2k words

Masterlist

“I can’t believe this” Patrick laughed moving to run a hand through his hair. “Him. Seriously.” His voice was venomous as he spoke. You sighed, exasperated almost as you sat on the bed.

He looked over to you from his place by the door. “You dated him for four years?” He scoffed. “You didn’t think to tell me this?”

“Patrick.” You sighed moving to stand in front of him. “I was gonna tell you. I was just waiting for the right time.” You gestured to the crib. 

“You and Art.” He shook his head. The idea was so ludicrous to him. “He never mentioned you.”

“We weren’t together when-” You hesitated. “When it happened.” He grimaced slightly at your words, mumbling quietly under his breath.

Placing a hand on his cheek you smiled. “It was a long time ago. You have nothing to worry about.” His eyes met yours and for a moment a flash of vulnerability crossed his face. You weren’t technically his. Sure the baby sleeping only a few feet away was a product of you both but you and him were nothing more than two people raising a baby.

He wanted more. He’d wanted more from the moment he’d seen you hold your daughter for the first time but he refused to mess this up. He refused to push away what was possibly the best thing that ever happened to him.

So he was willing to wait - to play the long game.

He closed his eyes, sucking in a breath. “He wants to talk to you.” The words hung heavy as you faltered.

“What do you mean?”

“It was him at the door.” His eyes hardened slightly as he almost forced the next words from his mouth. “Art.”

Your own breath caught sight. “So he told you.” Patrick nodded. “It’s not every day the guy who ditched you for your ex randomly shows up at your door.” He rolled his eyes.

You could almost imagine it. The look on their faces as they came face to face for the first time in what must have been years. “Did he say why?” You asked gently rubbing your thumb across his cheek.

“No.” He shook his head, his gaze almost burning through you. 

You nodded sighing quietly. “Okay.” You looked over to the crib. “I just got her down. She should sleep for a while.”

Patrick nodded, his face softening as he looked over to the crib. You watched him for a moment, a small smile playing on your lips.

Patrick Zweig may have been many things, but one thing he was not was a bad father.

You pressed your lips to his cheek for a moment before pulling back. “I won't be long.”

His jaw seemed to tense for a moment before he nodded. You hummed softly walking past him and down the stairs. You trailed your hand down the bannister as you thought for a moment. 

This whole situation left your head spinning slightly. You really had planned to tell Patrick about your past with Art. You knew it was something you’d have to approach gently yet apparently that had blown up in your face.

Art was still standing by the couch, though he’d taken a seat and his expression was pinched. When he saw you descending the stairs, his focus shifted and a strange mix of guilt and relief flickered on his face. 

He got to his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looked you over, his gaze flickering across your figure.

You smiled gently as you reached the bottom step. You looked him over for a moment. He looked so different yet the same. He’d matured since you’d last seen him but you thought if you squinted enough you could still see the boy who you’d fallen for all those years ago.

 “Hey.” You leaned against the bannister, watching him.

Art returned the greeting, offering a faint and slightly forced smile in return, but it was obvious that whatever he wanted to say was weighing on him. 

“Can we talk?” He asked, his voice quiet enough that he knew Patrick wouldn’t overhear.

You cast a glance to the stairs for a moment just to make sure Patrick hadn’t decided to follow you. “Sure.” You paused for a moment. Whatever this was about you didn't feel like doing it out in the open was the safest idea. “Kitchen?” You offered 

The answer caused the corner of his mouth to twitch slightly in the faintest smile. 

“Yeah.” He murmured in response, leading you into the next room. He kept up a few steps behind as he walked up to the counter, leaning against it as he took you in.

You walked past him choosing to lean against the island opposite him. You left a safe distance between you both as you leaned forward, bracing your arms on the island. “Why are you here?”

Art exhaled slightly, looking up at you in earnest. It had been years since he’d last seen you, but it felt like he was seeing you for the first time all over again. He could still recognize the same fierce and determined look in your eyes. 

“I…” a moment of hesitation before he exhaled again. “I had to see you.”

You scoffed. “Seriously?” You shook your head. “What about your wife?” You spit the smile previously on your lips melting away as your gaze hardened.

Art’s expression dropped ever so slightly. It was exactly what he’d expected from you, and he knew he deserved it. Though part of him hoped you’d be more open to talking. 

“Tashi’s not…she’s fine.” He stated, waving an indifferent hand in the air. 

“Mhm.” You nodded slightly unconvinced. His appearance was more than random. After eight years why now? Why now when you finally had something good did he have to show up?

“How did you even find out where I lived anyway? We haven’t spoken in like eight years.”

His mouth twisted slightly at this, and he almost sheepishly shoved his hands into his pockets. 

“I, uh…” he trailed off, before exhaling. “I may have asked your parents.”

Your eyes widened as your mouth dropped open slightly. “Seriously? You called my parents!”

The look on your face was exactly what he was expecting, a mixture of annoyance and disbelief. He couldn’t say he blamed you for feeling that way, but he hadn’t exactly known another way to contact you. You weren’t exactly buddy buddy.

“Who else was I going to ask?” He retorted in a huff.

“Literally anyone else. What did you tell them?” You laughed in disbelief.

Art’s jaw set a little at the question, knowing how it would sound. 

“I just—“ He hesitated, not wanting to admit it. “…told them I wanted to see you.” He exhaled, and the answer came out slightly sheepish. He held his breath for a moment as you seemed to take in the information.

He knew it was low of him but part of him didn’t care.

You rolled your eyes. “Jesus Christ.”

You paused for a moment. “Why now?”

Art’s expression soured at the question, the reality of it weighing on him. He shifted a little, his gaze dropping as he exhaled. 

“I…” he trailed off, struggling to find the right words. He knew it was stupid but he was struggling to convey it. “I know I don’t have a right to say this, but…I need to talk to you.”

You sighed. “I’m here aren’t I?” You briefly glanced at the door.

“You know he’s fuming right?” You gestured to the doorway.  “I didn’t tell him that I knew about whatever the fuck went down between you both in college.”

The mention of Patrick made Art’s expression falter slightly, and he exhaled. As if on cue, he could faintly hear footsteps pacing upstairs, no doubt Patrick’s irritated footsteps as he was clearly itching to listen in. 

“Let him fume.” Art huffed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I don’t care.”

He knew he sounded like a child but seeing Patrick had done enough to sour his mood for the day. Of all the people in the world, why did you have to choose him?

You rolled your eyes. “Well, I have to care! He’s the father of my child.”

Art’s expression dropped slightly at the mention of you having a child with Patrick. He couldn’t honestly say he was surprised, though he did struggle to not feel a pang of something. He’d always known you were bound to grow up and find someone.

“Do you love him?” The question was out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

You faltered for a moment. Did you love Patrick? Sure he was the father of your child but what more was he? You’d never passed that line from friends to something more. A large part of you wanted to, but was that what he wanted?

You paused. “I…” you trailed off. “I don’t know yet.”

You shifted. “We’re not actually together.”

The answer didn’t reassure him as much as he would’ve hoped. A part of him still expected you to say yes, and he was surprised when you said something different. 

“You aren’t?” He echoed, shifting against the counter slightly. “Even…even after the baby?”

“I don’t like saying it but she was the result of a one-night stand.” You ran a hand through your hair a small pit of guilt forming in your stomach at your words. “We didn’t exactly plan this,”

Art’s expression twisted slightly at the revelation, and he exhaled. A one-night stand wasn’t necessarily shocking, but it was still somewhat surprising to hear. 

“Ah.” There was a pause, and his shoulders slumped slightly. “So…you guys aren’t…” together? The question was left unfinished, but it was clear what he meant.

“No.”

The answer made his heart leap ever so slightly, though he did his best not to show it. He exhaled, shifting uncomfortably as he tried to keep his expression neutral. 

“Do you…plan to?” He asked cautiously.

You frowned. “I don’t know okay.” 

Art’s expression softened slightly at that, despite the pang in his chest. He didn’t blame you for being conflicted about Patrick. Part of him understood that your situation wasn’t exactly conventional.

There was a moment of a pause, before he spoke up again, slightly hesitant and quiet. “And…what about me?”

“What about you?” You frowned moving to clasp your hands together on the counter.

The expression on his face was strangely vulnerable as his gaze met yours. 

“You know I—“ He paused, shaking his head as if trying to think of the right words to say. “Do you still….” His voice trailed off, and he exhaled. He didn’t know how to finish the question, he didn’t know if he wanted to. 

Do you still love me? There it was.

The words seemed to fall over you like ice. The question made your head spin slightly as your gaze darted from him to your hands and back to him. Your face softened for the first time since you’d entered the kitchen and for a moment he could have sworn you looked slightly concerned.

What was he playing at here?

“You…you’re married.” You whispered 

He knew he was married.

Art had been expecting that response, he’d thought he’d come to terms with the way you most likely wouldn’t reciprocate the statement. But hearing it still stung, and he had to work to keep his expression neutral in light of the response. 

“You didn’t answer the question.” He managed to say, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice.

You nodded casting a glance out the door. You moved around the island, standing slightly closer to him.

“We dated for four years. Hell, you were my first real love…I’m always gonna hold some sort of feelings for you.” You sighed, your eyes refused to meet his.

Art’s heart leapt at the confession, and he inhaled ever so slightly. Still? After all this time? After everything that happened between you two? 

He had to keep himself under control, swallowing and working to keep his expression steady. As if to compensate, he shifted on his feet, not sure how he felt being this close to you again. 

“Feelings?” He echoed after a moment. “What kind of feelings?”

You rolled your eyes scoffing. “Don’t play dumb.” 

The comment made Art scoff slightly, and he crossed his arms over his chest. In spite of himself, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He couldn’t help it, the way you responded to him was the same as it had always been. 

“I’m not playing dumb.” He shot back, his tone slightly teasing. “I just—“ He paused, a faint smile still on his face as he looked back down at you. “—I want to hear you say it.”

“What you wanna hear me say that I still love you?” Your eyes met his, yet they didn’t hold the coldness they had only a few minutes ago. Your head was spinning almost as you tried to digest what he was saying.

Art’s breath caught, and he paused for a moment. 

Yes

He exhaled again, his expression slightly pained now. He knew it was a stupid thing to want to hear. He was married for Christ’s sake, he shouldn’t want it. But he couldn’t help himself from wanting to hear the words come from you. 

“Yeah.” He found himself blurting out as he leaned forward a little. “Say it.”

“Why?” You shook your head taking a step back. “Why do you care.”

Art paused, trying to think of an answer in spite of himself. He didn’t know why he cared so much, he just did. 

“I just…” He trailed off and exhaled. “I just want to hear you say it, just so—“

The word caught in his throat, and he hesitated. Just so I know it’s not too late.

He couldn’t say that, he couldn’t admit that.

You thought for a moment. Did you still love him? 

You’d barely spared him a single thought in the last eight years yet now…now actually standing in front of him you doubted that you’d truly gotten over him. 

Flipping the situation on him you glanced to the door before looking back to him. “Do you still love me?” You pursed your lips watching him closely.

Art’s gaze flickered as your question. The answer was yes, he did still love you. If anything it was more than before, and that’s what scared him. 

“I…” He paused, again struggling to find the right words. “…yeah. I do,” he admitted shakily, the words almost a whisper.

Your breath hitched. You hadn’t expected that. “Then why did you marry her?” You couldn’t bring yourself to say her name. The thought of her alone left a bad taste in your mouth.

Art almost wished you hadn’t asked the question. He felt his body almost go tense with the question, and he swallowed. 

He didn’t know how to explain to you that he’d been desperate and scared, that he’d felt like he was losing everything and that Tashi was an escape from it. He didn’t know how to admit that he wished he hadn’t done it, that marrying her had been the biggest mistake he’d ever made. 

“I…” He started weakly. “…I thought I loved her

You shook your head staring at him dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”

Art exhaled, a hand going to run through his hair. He couldn’t look at you, he couldn’t bring himself to meet your eye. 

“Everything was changing.” He said quietly. “And you were—“ He cut himself off, as if not wanting to say it. “And you were gone, and I just…” 

He exhaled, struggling to find the right response. “I didn’t know what to do.”

You sighed nodding slightly. “If you’d called I would have picked up.” You let the words hang for a moment.

The words hit Art like a truck. The worst part was you were right. You would’ve picked up if he’d called you. If only he’d had the insight to call you if he’d had the courage to call you.

“I know.” His shoulders slumped slightly, and he sighed, looking down. “Believe me, I know.”

Then why didn't you?

The words hung unsaid in the air as you stared at him. “Is that all?” You sighed after a moment.

Art exhaled again, shifting uncomfortably. He wanted to say no because he knew it was far from all he had to say. He wanted to say I’m sorry and I should’ve called and I wish I hadn’t married Tashi and on and on and on. 

Because he was still scared, he was still terrified of losing you for good. 

“Yeah.” He blurted out in spite of himself. “That’s all.”

You nodded. “Okay.” You allowed yourself to smile as you reached over to rub a hand up his arm. The touch almost made Art shiver, and he had to force himself not to lean into it. Your words stung a bit, a sharp pain in his chest. 

You were quiet for a moment before softly saying “I’m sorry it didn’t end differently.”

“I’m sorry too.” He whispered, his gaze flickering up to look at you. It was at that moment that he realized how close you were to him, and he had to stop himself from pulling you even closer.

Your hand paused for a moment as your eyes met his. Your heart seemed to stutter as you let out a breath. Art’s eyes darted between yours, his expression torn. He knew he shouldn’t, he knew he needed to pull away. He was married, he had a daughter. 

There were a hundred reasons he shouldn’t.

Yet none of them seemed to matter when you were standing so close to him.

Your breath seemed to catch for a moment as you felt a slight pull.

You shifted ever closer, your eyes still locked on his as the world seemed to almost fade away. The guilt began to claw at your brain. It screamed at you to pull back, to turn around and walk away.

To go back to the father of your child. But you didn’t

Art’s breathing hitched as you moved closer, and his mind practically went blank. The logical part of him knew he should stop you, he should pull away and step back because *this was wrong*, but he didn’t. It was as if he was paralyzed by the proximity. 

“We…” He managed to say weakly, his voice barely a whisper. “Shouldn’t.”

“I know.” You whispered sinking your teeth into your lip. “You married and I have a baby with your ex-best friend.” you looked down for a moment.

you were so fucked

Art swallowed as his gaze flickered down to your mouth, and he inhaled slightly. The words should be a reason to move, should be a reason for him to step back, because you were right, he was married and you had a baby and you weren’t even his anymore. 

But Art didn’t move away, and something about it just felt right. 

“I know.” He repeated your response, his voice coming out slightly strangled.

You nodded before dropping your hand from his arm and starting to move back.

The guilt of the situation beginning to take over. You couldn’t do that to Patrick - you wouldn't do that. 

Art wanted to swear as you moved away. Stop being logical, he wanted to say, because he knew that he should feel guilty but somehow he didn’t. 

Instead, he reached out without thinking, his hand wrapped loosely around your wrist as he gently tugged you back.

His touch burned almost. The heat travels up your arm and over the rest of your body. The touch seemed to dull the voice in your head as you swallowed thickly before you silently met his gaze. 

Art’s heart was racing in his chest as his hand was wrapped around your wrist, the feeling of your skin against his sent a little jolt through him. His eyes never left yours as he gently tugged you back towards him. 

The logical part of his mind was screaming at him to let you go, that he shouldn’t be doing this. But for the first time in years, he ignored it.

Your lips parted. “Art-“

The way you said his name sent a shiver down his spine, and Art found himself shifting even closer to you. The guilt and the fear almost completely faded out of his mind at that moment, and it was only you. 

“Shh…” He murmured, his breath coming out shaky. “Don’t talk.”

You swallowed thickly as you felt your heat beat impossibly faster. His chest pressed against yours as you craned your neck slightly to look up at him. Your mind raced.

Art’s heart was racing in his chest, his breathing coming in a ragged, uneven pace as you stood so close to him. You were pressed against his chest, and it was as if almost instantly, any sort of hesitancy or guilt he’d been feeling before was gone, replaced with an almost desperate desire. 

You tilted your head up to look at him, and Art leaned down ever so slightly so his face hovered directly above yours.

You froze.

His breath ghosted against your lips as you blinked unable to move.

Art’s grip on your wrist loosened, his hand moving up to cradle the side of your face. 

The air between you was so unbearably charged. You could almost hear both of your hearts racing as Art hovered his face just above yours, his breath fanning against your face as he hesitated. 

His thumb traced a gentle, light pattern over your skin as he paused as if silently asking for permission.

All your morals seemed to melt away at that moment. The gesture alone had your knees feeling weak as the guilt seemed to fully melt away.

You nodded slightly, your breath catching.

The instant you nodded, it was like a switch flicked on inside Art. Before you could even register it, his lips were against yours. 

It was desperate, and needy, and almost hungry as if he was trying to make up for three years worth of missed kisses at that moment. His hand not on your face moved to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him.

You gasped quietly a hand going to fist his hair as your other fell to the edge of the counter. Your body moulded against his perfectly as he pressed you back into the counter firmly.

A little gasp left Art’s mouth as you tangled your hand in his hair, and the feeling seemed to send a wave of heat rushing through him. Feeling you against him was like taking a breath of air after drowning, and it just made him want more. 

Art tilted his head, his lips pressing more firmly against yours as he pressed against you.

The kiss only seemed to grow more desperate as time went on. You were both seemingly trying to make up for lost time as the world seemed to disappear until it was only you both left. 

He needed you closer. The hand on the small of your back was keeping you practically pressed against him, and he let out a low gasp into your mouth as if he was trying to taste you. 

He practically lifted you off the floor, setting you down on the counter and standing between your legs.

You shifted closer to him, your hand slipping from his hair to the nape of his neck and your other one lay on his shoulder.

The world around you seemed to narrow down to nothing more than the two of you.  The feeling of his lips against yours was intoxicating so much that for a moment you almost forgot that 8 years had passed. 

That you both had commitments to other people.

Art’s head was spinning. He couldn’t think of anything, the only thing going through his head was you, you, you, and the way your body felt against his. 

He needed more, and his hands roamed over your frame, touching your waist, your hips, your thighs, your cheeks, anything he could reach. 

Just this once, a little voice in his head whispered. Just this once.

So lost in your own world you both missed the footsteps making their way down the stairs.

Both of you were completely oblivious to the footsteps, Art’s focus was solely on you. One of his hands was firmly on your waist, fingers digging into your skin as if he was afraid you’d disappear. 

The other was gently resting against your cheek, his thumb tracing a light pattern over your skin as he pressed you as close to him as he could.

A small content noise left you as he pulled back for a moment. Your chest heaved as you caught your breath before pressing your lips back to his again.

The kitchen door opening fell on deaf ears.

you both failed to notice for a moment until the sound of someone clearing their throat broke through your haze.

Patrick looked pissed.

His jaw was clenched tightly as he stepped fully into the kitchen, shutting the door quietly, and his glare flicked from Art, to you, and back again. 

“Having a good time?” He finally said through gritted teeth, his expression hard and sharp.

[jasperxkuromi]

Regressors that are (bodily) older, please interact!

Later 20s, 30s, maybe even older? I would love to hear from you and maybe even your stories if you don't mind sharing!

I want to meet more people like me and also show others that age regression doesn't just suddenly "stop" at a certain age

Some of us:

Didn't discover regressing/didn't understand their involuntary regression until they were older

Wasn't in a safe space mentally and/or physically to be able to regress the way we want to

Didnt "grow out" of regressing. I think a lot of people outside the community assume we will all grow out of wanting to regress at some point. Maybe some of us will, but some of us won't. Regressing can be a safe and healthy coping mechanism, no matter your bodily age!

And probably many other reasons I can't think of at the moment lol

I would love to get to talk to older regressors, or if there are any groups/discords, I would like to know those too :3

I'm gonna talk about my story a little under the cut, but I don't exactly recommend reading it if you are little right now! I am going to be talking about s3xualization of agere and children's media unfortunately.

I started age dreamer/involuntarily regressing when I was in high school without really knowing what it was. I was really into MLP FiM during its height popularity. I watched the show, collected and played with the toys, did coloring books, took my MLP blanket to school ever day. You get the idea.

I discovered regression here in Tumblr, but this was yeeeeaaars ago, like back when nsfw was still allowed. The line between ddlg and agere wasn't as solid as it is now. Or maybe it was just because I was a kid and couldn't understand better? Either way ... i ended up getting wrong ideas of what agere had to be and ended up scaring myself off. I also had adult roleplayers leaving really inappropriate comments on my posts that made me feel icky. I thought agere had to be s3xual and scared myself off.

We also unfortunately probably know the uhhh .. types of fan art that was popular of MLP. And it just ended up making me lose interest in the series. The stuff was everywhere and it was hard to avoid even if you were vigilant.

I never got a real chance to understand what healthy, voluntary regression was. I still was an age dreamer, but most times when I involuntarily regress it is out of extreme stress and it isn't fun or pretty.

I had a lot of bad things that happened to me last year and in turn I am having more health issues. Chronic conditions I already had getting worse, and new ones popping up. My mom (the one who birthed me) has been helping me a bit, but it has still been a lot of playing adult. Making phone calls back and forth, filling out paperwork, figuring out disability leave, paying bills, etc etc. I started age dreaming more and more often to cope with the stress. Like I randomly one day bought a DVD player and sets of Winnie the Pooh and Scooby Doo DVDs lmfao.

I also never stopped collecting stuffed animals and came back to collecting dolls again last year. It helps that I have friends IRL who I don't think are regressors, but still enjoy collecting with me. (my friends don't know yet, but I think they would be accepting if I told them, or they might already assume I regress tbh)

I have kinda had age regression on the back of my mind for several months, but was scared to look back into it. I was scared of going through the same thing I did back in high school. But also denying I am a regressor and that I still need to heal my childhood wounds was getting heavier and heavier on me. I am sooooo thankful I finally felt safe to begin exploring regression again ♥️😁

Side note: while I absolutely don't care if people do ddlg and similar stuff as a kink/fetish, I am thankful that the distinction between that and agere is more distinct now. It is important we protect minors and other vulnerable people from having the same sorts of things that happened to me (or worse) from happening to them.

[artssslut2]

I Told You It Would Happen

This can be a standalone or part three to something’s missing.

It’ll Happen (previous)

Art Donaldson x Reader

Summary: you are art finally got the news you had been waiting for.

It had been another month or two since you last took a test. You and Art decided to keep trying but try not to get too excited yet because it could take a while. However, you started having some symptoms you couldn’t ignore. The biggest being a missed period. When you noticed you wanted to jump up and down and tell Art, but then you thought about how disappointed he’d be if it was another negative. So you decided that you would just take the test alone while he was training.

As you sat in the bathroom waiting for the results of the test you felt guilty. Art had been right by your side every other time. Would he feel left out? Would he want to be here? You knew he’s want to be here weather it was positive or negative, you suddenly decided to cover up the test with a towel and wait for him to get home. You forced yourself to do everything in your power not to look at the test. “It’s probably negative” you kept telling yourself. You went for a long walk to try and distract yourself from what could be the best thing that’s ever happened to you (besides Art). You saw the time and knew Art would be home soon so you rushed back to the house. As you got to your house Art pulled into the drive way meeting him at the door. He looked surprised to see you out for a walk, it was kind of out of the ordinary for you.

“Whatcha doing babe?” Your husband asked wrapping his arms around you giving you a quick kiss.

“Just uh enjoying our beautiful neighborhood, why?” You answered clearly hiding something, you were a terrible liar and Art knew it.

“Yeah? What’s going on y/n/n?” Art asked you suspiciously neither of you opening the door yet

“I - um - I… I thought maybe I was pregnant because I missed my period so I was gonna take a test and not tell you unless it was positive because I didn’t want you to be disappointed but then I felt so guilty because I knew you would still want to be there no matter what the test said so I covered the test before I could see the results so that I could wait for you so we could both look and I’ve been trying so hard not to look and I’m kind of freaking out” you blurred out somehow all in one breath. Art waited a minute making sure you were done, you noticed a small smile growing on his face

“What? Are you mad?” You asked

“You think you’re pregnant?” He whispered sweetly

“Well I don’t know maybe” you replied still in panic mode

“What are we waiting for let’s go see if we’re parents!” Art happily replied pulling you in the door, you followed him to the master bathroom.

“You look. I can’t.” You ordered him gesturing to the towel the test was under.

“Are you sure?” He asked

“Yes now do it!” You barked desperate to know what it said. You watched him slowly lift the towel up looking at the test so only he could see it. His face was blank and you were sure it was negative

“What? What does it say?!” You suddenly we’re mad that you told Art just for it to be negative. His face still not showing anything. He looked down and you saw a smile form on his face. He looked at you

“We’re gonna be parents” he said quietly with tears in his eyes.

“What!? Lemme see!” You ripped the test from him.

“Oh my god!” You yelled grabbing arts face with the test still in your hand now you were both crying Art more than you

“You’re pregnant” Art cried pulling you in for the tightest hug ever

“I’m pregnant!” You cried back, Art dropped to his knees hugging your abdomen

“I told you it would happen” he said kissing you stomach. Your heart felt like it was glowing.

The rest on the night you practically stayed in the same position. You layer in bed and art layer by your stomach with his arms hugging your non existent baby bump. The night was filled with tears of joy, cuddles, and talk of nursery colors, names, what the baby would look like. Art even talked about giving them siblings but you reminded him that you guys should just focus on this one for now.

Art was right, it did happen.

[colealexart]

story time! i met the cr cast this past weekend at mcm london and they were the kindest people imaginable, but my interaction with laura and marisha was just. incomprehensibly sweet and the best thing to ever happen to me.

first up was laura. my friends izzy (@wvearp) and abby (@overnighttosunflowers) went before me in the queue and they got my art signed by her. when they did, she said “oh, best art” and they told her that they were here with the artist. she immediately was like “what?! where?!” and started looking around frantically. i was standing just to the side and i waved awkwardly and she was like “NO WAY! YOU!! i favourite this shit on twitter ALL THE TIME!” which i find hilarious because yeah, i freak out a little every time she does.

when it got to my turn, i said hello and asked her how she was doing. she did not answer my question and instead said “cole, are you kidding me? these are gorgeous” about the two prints i handed to her. (the one pictured and a different one i got signed.) she said she remembers seeing this after the episode aired and i was like “yeah, it airs at 3am here so i drew this in a frantic, sleep deprived stupor at 7am” and she said “you did it so fast, i remember! i sent it to marisha! people are SO QUICK with the fanart, you guys are insane.”

after she signed the print, she held onto it for a moment and just sat and admired it, before looking at me with the BIGGEST smile and saying “you are seriously the best. thank you.” and i don’t know how to handle sincerity so i handed her the dice i got for her. she was so excited about them and immediately rolled the d20 and got a 10 (edit: i misremembered, she got a 3 lol). i then asked if we could play rollies and she beat me. i got a 5 and laura got a 7. i said i’m sorry they’re not rolling well and she was like “it’s fine, they just need charging up!”

i also got a selfie too, but the guy helping her at the table took the photo for us instead of me trying to take it because i suck at taking selfies. she gave me a really tight side hug and when it was done, she thanked me again with the biggest smile.

i also didnt realize until afterwards but instead of writing a character quote, laura wrote “you are everything” on my autograph 😭

next was the group photo op. as we walked up i said hi again to laura and she immediately recognized me from before. she grabbed onto my shoulders and literally spun me around to marisha and was frantically saying “marisha marisha, this is the person that does the amazing imodna art!” but there was a lot going on and marisha was looking at me with the most bewildered expression, until she eventually understood what laura was saying but we had to rush to take the photo. laura held onto my arm and marisha leaned against me and i didn’t realize until afterwards but liam and tal also had their hands on my shoulders lol. it was A Lot. i told marisha i would probably be heading to her autograph queue next so i’d see her there and she was like “awesome, i cant wait!”

so after that, i met marisha. i was probably the most nervous to meet her because she’s just so cool and intimidating but in reality she is just so warm and has such a calming presence about her. she was like “cole, good to see you again!” and i handed her the same imodna print that i had laura sign. she said “ohh, aww this is amazing! this is what laura was talking about, i was so confused!”

then we talked a bit about the live show because her voice was hoarse and i asked her how she was feeling. she said it was just her voice that was gone, but we agreed that it was absolutely worth it because the live show was incredible. i also congratulated her on the how do you wanna do this, then gave her the dice i got for her and we played rollies too. we both got an 18 at first and when we rerolled, she beat me with another 18 to my 16. then she was like “oh these roll really well, i’m definitely gonna use these!”

we took our photo together and afterwards she said “thank you for your art and everything. seriously, you’re so talented” while rubbing my shoulder, and then i headed off to join ashley’s queue.

i’m probably gonna make a separate post about meeting ashley and sam. i just wanted to write this down mostly to immortalize on my blog. i expected them to be kind but i did NOT expect to feel so loved and appreciated. laura was about as excited as i was, and made me feel so special. (this is also a pretty small thing but i dont think i pass very well, so the fact that laura said ‘person’ and didn’t misgender me meant a hell of a lot too.)

i did bring extra prints to give to them as a gift but was overwhelmed and forgot lol

anyway, that’s it! for anyone wondering if the critical role cast are as kind in person as they seem online, they absolutely are and then some. i’ll never forget this past week.

[amymbona]

What if... Tashi wasn't the only one who suffered from an injury. What if you, a random girl from Stanford, that somehow became close with all three of the messy lovers, went on to have a successful career, that ended within a moment, just like Tashi's.

You became close to Art and Tashi during your Stanford years, having proven yourself as a sweet and yet equally as talent tennis player. Art had a bit of a crush on you, finding it slightly conflicting, especially since the main point of his interest used to be Tashi. The two have introduced you to Patrick as well, as he basically came like an inseparable part of the 2 + 1 pack. Eventually, it was you plus them, them plus you, and you became their little thing.

After Tashi's injury, her and Art's break-up with Patrick and all the events at the end of the school year, you found yourself in the middle of the mess. You couldn't really bear it, the intensity of Tashi's desire fueled by the need to be as close to tennis as possible, Art's indecisive and idiotic persona, and Patrick's bleeding, solving-everythin-by-sex attitude.

You lived with Patrick for a few months, the two of you fucking every so often, but the moment he began slacking off and turning to alcohol and nicotine for comfort, it was enough. Even after Patrick's heartbreaking promises and Art's unsuccessful attempt to reach out, you completely distanced yourself from the three. Then, it was just you.

Unfortunately, you couldn't escape the three fully. Patrick would bombard your phone with long messages and voice mails, sometimes accompanied by low quality videos of him jerking off and saying how much he missed you. He'd show up at your place a few times as well, and you had to physically kick him out. Art and Tashi were equally as difficult to avoid, as they were now the player-coach duo, attending the same matches as you. Luckily, they never spoke to you.

All in all, you were living your life. Yes, with an aching hole in your heart, but tennis was big enough to fill it. Until it leaves a hole even bigger.

"She's trying to get her to twist her own feet. Look, that ankle's gonna roll, I can see it." Tashi mutters anxiously, slipping her own hand into her husband's. The two have been watching your match against some australian player from the bleachers, not liking where it's been going at all.

"Right," Art agreed with a gentle squeeze of Tashi's hand. It really doesn't look good. You're constantly jumping from left to right, and the playstyle characteristic to yourself makes you swing on your right foot while you just move your left one over it from wide to side. They've seen you pull this move at Stanford a million of times, with you insisting it saves breath from moving too far, but they've also heard you whimper when you couldn't walk properly. "We told her to stop doing that ages ago."

And then it happens. A fraction of moment, when something snaps, the top of your foot kissing the pavement, and then you're on the floor, clutching your leg in pain.

Tashi is, surprisingly, is the first person by your side, pushing everyone away and just holding you in her arms. You sob and sob and sob, the weight of it all falling onto you, and the Donaldsons accompany you to the hospital. They stay with your for days and then take you home - to their home - because they know you can't be left alone.

And they call Patrick too, something they have sworn to never do, but eventually Art is the one to break the no contact rule and calls his former best friend. The guy is in their residence within hours, not caring at all that he had to fly from the very other side of the state.

It's almost comical, absurd and ironic even, how your sudden injury cause the three to reconcile. All the fights are long forgotten, and nobody even gets the chance to throw a jab at one another, not when they see you finally asleep in Tashi and Art's bed, clad in one of her silk pyjama sets, your poor, swollen ankle wrapped in a tight layer of white, heavy plaster cast. At that moment, all three of them hold hands and comfort one another because they know that you need them right now, that they have to be strong and mature for you.

You don't speak, you don't eat, and Art has to physically carry you to the bathroom so you can at least take a piss and wash your teeth. After Tashi successfully manages to push a few spoons of mashed potatoes past your lips, Patrick sits next to you for hours, just silently stroking your back and telling you that you're beautiful every so often.

Suddenly, you have everything you have hoped for, everything you missed and mourned, but at what cost? You've lost what was most important to you - your tennis career, even more successful than Tashi's, full of more accomplishments than all the three players combinwd - and what do you have now? Nothing, or everything?

[nexus-my-beloved]

This October, a brand-new story and artwork is coming to you for @deancashorrorfest ! With art by @suninjang and a fic by yours truly, we've created something we're sure you'll love !

Rating: Explicit

Major Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Tags: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Alternate Universe - FBI Agents, FBI Agent Dean Winchester, FBI Agent Castiel, Blood and Gore, Dean Winchester has a Crush on Castiel, Castiel Has Self-Esteem Issues, Dean Winchester Has Issues (truly, without saying the plot outright even if it's somewhat obvious, anything else is a spoiler! But Dean has issues. Period.)

Summary: Senior Special Agent Castiel Novak and Special Agent Dean Winchester are partners within the FBI's Criminal Investigation Division. Lately, they've been following a set of murders, cold cases that even Castiel - the bureau's best agent - can't solve. The murders seem entirely unconnected, no string to suggest that they're similar at all - that is until Castiel begins to recognize the victims. Suddenly, things are starting to slot into place, and Castiel isn't sure he likes where the signs are beginning to point.

Teaser: Once at the front desk, Dean worked out what they needed to be allowed access to the back room, and Castiel continued to look over the report. 

The amount of injuries sustained were concerning, especially when Castiel began to wonder how exactly the killer had the time to inflict them all. Dean pulled him along into the back room, allowing Castiel to continue to read. “It’s strange,” he started, lifting up a page and being granted sight to another photo. “All the bruising around these cuts… It’s almost like…” 

“Yeesh,” Dean exclaimed, taking in the sight of the body in front of him. “Looks like she got Tatum Riley’ed.” Castiel looked up from the report to give Dean a confused look, unsure of who Tatum Riley was. Dean didn’t seem too impressed by Castiel’s lack of knowledge, however, giving him a surprised look. “What? C’mon, man! Scream! Ghostface?” Castiel only shook his head. “I don’t understand that reference.” Dean scoffed, pointing over at the wounds. “Dude, I don’t know how you do so well at this job without seeing a horror movie or two. Look– Tatum Riley was one of the people that got killed in Scream, right? She got cornered by a killer in the garage and the door back in was locked. She tried to get out using the doggie door that was on the garage door, but she got stuck halfway through. The killer lifted up the garage door and crushed her in it while she was stuck.” 

Castiel shuddered at the visual. It didn’t seem like a pretty way to go out. 

“Anyway– look at this,” Dean continued, pointing at the bruising and cuts. “I mean, it doesn’t look perfect. There was probably a few knife slashes in there, y’know? The movie never actually showed Tatum’s wounds– I mean, you could see that the head was clearly fake when Sydney saw her later– sorry. We never actually saw how she looked after, under the shirt and all, but I’d imagine it might be similar to that.” Castiel nodded a bit, thinking about the scenario. It did seem probable. 

“I was never actually told where they found her body,” Castiel admitted, looking over the body before back to the report. “I’ll be back. I’m gonna go see what I can find out.” Dean nodded, shooing Castiel away. “Yeah, you go see. I’ll try to get a few other guesses on what might’ve happened to Riley 2.0 here.” 

Making his way towards the front desk, Castiel allowed himself to think. A kill that seemed similar to a horror film? Could it be the same killer that he’d been unable to catch? If so, then the killer must’ve really switched gears — that, or Castiel was incredibly uncultured on horror movies to recognize similar murders (that very well could be the case; Castiel wasn’t one for understanding movie references).

A kill similar to a classic Scream death? The circumstances being different than the other cases? Is it really the same killer, or does the culprit have a vendetta against Castiel, a want to lower his self-esteem through a subliminal message worthy of being compared to Will Graham's first killer in Hannibal?

Find out more soon - It Will Come Back hits Ao3 this october . . !

[slavonicrhapsody]

ok I think I’ve played enough of the dlc where I feel like I can talk about it now and lift my spoilers embargo… overall I had SO much fun!! there’s so much to love about it and only a few things I didn’t like! more detailed thoughts under the cut:

Gameplay-wise, I thought almost every single boss was fun and rewarding to fight… my faves were Divine Beast Dancing Lion (best ost in the entire game by miles), Rellana, and Messmer. I also really loved the exploration?? My favorite kind of games are the ones where you have to sniff out every corner of the map in order to find hidden paths forward… the fact that you have to really poke around to find huge areas of the map, and how the traversal is so layered and non-linear, was THRILLING to me!! so much more interesting than the base game!!

Story-wise, what spoke to me the most was everything about the Hornsent… Belurat was my first legacy dungeon, and I was so wowed by the gorgeous unique architecture and the sheer desolation of the place that it really stayed with me. Both the environment and the Hornsent NPCs do such a great job of conveying the pain and tragedy of what happened to them, while at the same time, not simplifying them into some kind of faultless utopia… their society was proud and harsh and cruel (not just to others, but to their own people), but it was also bursting with art and culture, and it was home to everyday people who made delicious stew for their loved ones:

“Scorpion simmered in a black soup. Traditional meal of the hornsent. Once made with love by a certain elderly woman for the family table. Having long gone cold, this soup gives off a rank, sour smell.”

Some of my very favorite NPCS were the Hornsent Grandam and Hornsent (the guy); I thought their quests told such poignant stories about loss and the meaning of justice and revenge (I especially think Hornsent’s quest complements Marika’s story so well!!). The way they portrayed this civilization’s downfall was so beautiful and tragic!

Also the fact that the NPCs talk during combat is SO GOOD??? At first I was kind of annoyed that I had to summon Hornsent for Messmer’s boss fight to do his quest, but in the end I was so glad I did because his dialogue during and after the fight is incredible!! plus the NPCs talking to EACH OTHER during the Leda invasions?? and need I mention IGON… this is the real best new addition they made to the game

Now for the one big fat thing I didn’t like….

so I had actually heard about the leaks before playing the game and was like ok. if this is true theyre gonna have to really justify this to me because my initial impression is uhhh. lol??? And now that I can confidently say that I’ve combed the game top to bottom for pieces of this story, I really dont think the game succeeds at justifying Radahn’s appearance?

What I mean by “justify” is that, in my opinion, if you’re gonna bring back a fan-favorite character who was previously dead, and not have it come off as cheap fanservice, it needs to feel like this character’s presence matters — that they have the necessary buildup, that their appearance has a significant weight to it, and that their screentime fleshes them out as a person in a meaningful way. I don’t think the dlc achieves this at all with Radahn. Yes, his appearance is directly foreshadowed if you do Freyja and Ansbach’s quests, but it isn’t enough to just state in advance that he’ll show up… my problem is that, even with these NPCs’ dialogue, Radahn feels like a total non-person. We hear almost nothing about what his thoughts or feelings about this situation might’ve been (just Freyja’s assertion that he would have approved of “endless war, to invigorate the soul”). We get plenty of insight into Miquella’s character because there’s so much material about him, but there just isn’t the same investment into Radahn’s character, which makes his triumphant return fall really flat for me.

I think for me what would’ve appropriately justified Radahn returning is if Freyja gave us more details about who Radahn was as a commander during the Shattering… like, some jumping-off point to really get a sense of what his motivations might’ve been… OR, they could’ve even added another Redmane NPC with views on Radahn that conflict with Freyja’s (there is literally a minor boss, the Red Bear, who was stated to have been a Redmane!!!)… what’s still a mystery is why Malenia tried to kill Radahn, and why he resisted, and the DLC doesn’t give us any concrete information about Radahn’s actions or goals during the Shattering that would have caused this. They don’t have to spell it out for us!! I just needed SOME attempt to engage with Radahn’s character in the DLC material if they’re literally gonna bring him back from the dead!! Because as it stands, he shows up and fights us without a word or even an expression, like a glorified action figure!!! it’s LAME!!!!!

totally loved the DLC except for that part. anyway stan Elder Inquisitor Jori

[moodymisty]

Instead of Lorgar getting cucked by Erebus (shudders) what about Argel Tal? He’s a Word Bearer space marine and I’ve heard good things about him. Also, this way we can have had Lorgar get cucked by his father (Emepror), his brother (Horus), and his son (Argel Tal)

Author’s note: I’m sorry I couldn’t not do it XD I'm normally really not a cheating/NTR type of person, but i had this idea and decided to just go for it.

Warnings: very vaguely lewd, Cheating, You are Lorgar’s beloved but he’s been gone for almost two years so Argel’s gonna tap that

Lorgar was often gone for so long.

For months, months apon months, It wasn't uncommon for life ending droughts and city destroying floods to happen in his absence. Entire building erected or torn down.

It's approaching a year and a half now since he left, and if it weren't for the murals, tapestries and art, you would've sworn you had begun to forget the details of his face.

You've stopped sleeping in his room since. You couldn't do it anymore. Something about it just felt so empty and cold.

He’s due to be gone for months longer still, as his crusade has drifted him so far from home. The letters and vox calls have stopped since, it's too far for them to reach Colchis.

It’s been so lonely. The emotional loneliness, the lack of someone to talk to…

The physical loneliness; The want for a hug, and a warm bed.

Argel Tal has at least been saying your need for the first type, talking with you as you look over the balcony. You’re leaning against it, dress gently flowing in the wind as the cool night air hits your skin, while Argel grasps it with a single, armored hand. You're surprised he's made such good company, normally the astartes are so stoic that it's hard to speak to them for more than a bit at a time.

Then again, you also think he's doing it because Lorgar ordered him to. To keep an eye on you. You only have an inkling, but even if he was, at least he seems to be enjoying it a bit none the less. You are as well.

The conversation has tapered off however, and you watch lights in the far distance flicker while the stars shine in the sky. It's peaceful. Argel breaks the silence with his voice- deep and rumbling in that odd astartes way.

"...Do you miss him, my Lady?"

He takes off his helmet, looking down at you. You hear the soft clink as he hangs it on his belt. It takes a moment for you to gather the words.

"I do, more than anything, but..."

You hesitate. Argel Tal is his son, one of his prized captains. His look is expectant, and for some reason you perhaps naively think he won't misconstrue your words.

"He's been gone for so long that I almost miss him less. Like when someone dies and you miss them with all your heart, but the wound slowly fades."

Argel looks down at you, jaw shifting as he thinks.

“Perhaps the others might not but, I understand.”

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Argel. You are a good man.”

Argel smiles, his tan skin scarred across his cheeks but still warm. You can't help but smile back at him as a cold breeze makes you shiver.

“I am honored you think that.”

Argel has so much humility compared to the other Word Bearers you’ve met, it’s refreshing. It also helps that he isn't as dedicated to Lorgar's titles for you; And had listened to your request when you told him to not use them.

You've been always looking forward to seeing him in these moments. It's the most joy you get in weeks long stretches at a time.

“I,” You don’t know why you hesitate, for a moment. “I should head to bed. Thank you for your time again, Argel. I hope you know how much I appreciate you being here.”

The astartes nods, pulling away from the railing as you do the same.

"You make good company as well. Astartes like I don't often get to speak with normal humans beyond giving orders." You give him another smile, before wishing him good night. He nods and leaves you, after you politely declined his offer to bring you to your quarters.

When you had, he seemed like he had something a bit more to say, but instead closed his mouth and walked away.

You decided about halfway that you would return to Lorgar's personal quarters instead; Perhaps to read a few of his books before trying to sleep. It probably wouldn't help, but you still wanted to try anyways. It was a long walk to get across the palace to where his quarters were, and by the time you got there you felt like sitting down.

You close the massive doors behind you, looking around. The bed is made from the last time you were in here, not a thing out of place. All the papers on his desk are scattered just the same, things half written or abandoned; Almost as if frozen in time.

Suddenly the sound of footsteps right outside causes you to turn back towards the door with a look of surprise, which only grows widen when the door is shoved open to reveal Argel. He’s removed his armor in the short time since he left, walking towards you in only his loose robes.

You don’t have time to say anything; Argel’s hands grab your face with both hands around your jaw- ignoring your shock gasp and instinctive fear has massive hands reached towards your neck - and leans downward to smash his lips against yours. He is rough and unforgiving, but even in his forcefulness you can feel something gentle there.

“You cannot tell Lorgar about these sins I have already committed,”

He says, lips brushing over yours. You could say the same as well. You are his beloved, but not yet wife.

But you are also so, unbelievably lonely.

“I won’t, I won’t ever-“

His lips are back on yours, and you attempt to pull him towards the bed. Any hope in realizing you shouldn’t do this is gone, you lost it as his hands gripped the thin fabric of your nightdress. You lost it in the desire for some sort of company, to fill the places in your heart Lorgar's constant abandonments leave ripped open.

Your back hits the bed and Argel follows.

“Tell me what you want, before I lose myself to my own selfishness.”

His body is so heavy, but he’s unfraid to push his weight against you. He takes the breath from your lungs, his hand tight on your waist.

“Just… Just touch me.”

[thezombieprostitute]

Hummingbird - Part 6

Summary: You didn't want to break into someone's party but you were desperate to see the art at the gallery before it was gone. You're so busy trying to make sure no one sees you that you miss the ever present gaze of Steve Rogers who is wondering why you crashed his party.

Word Count: ~1.5k

A/N: Reader is AFAB

A/N2: This takes place at the same time as Dream Come True Part 7

Warnings: Implied violence. Please let me know if I missed any.

Part 5 -- Part 7

Series Masterlist

Steve is on edge. Ransom might be trapped in his own home and the only way to find out anything was to send in a civilian. True she was on their payroll, but she’s supposed to only be on the legitimate side of things. Bucky was swearing up a storm and vowing to beat every passphrase he could into Ransom’s head so that this shit would never happen again. 

Bucky gets a phone call from Mace, Curtis’s second-in-command. He immediately puts the phone on speaker, “what’ve we got Mace?”

“Note from Ransom that reads, Lloyd is back. Has solid plans to take over everything. We’re getting our intel to confirm and find out where he’s at.”

Steve’s blood runs cold. He knew he should’ve just had Lloyd killed but he was trying to not be like the other Bosses in the other Families. He won’t make that mistake again.

Bucky follows up, “what’s the word on Teach? She safe with you guys?”

“Not yet,” Mace answered. “She sent us a photo of the note from Ransom. Haven’t heard…” There's a ruckus in the background as they hear Curtis yelling. “Give me a minute,” Mace tells them. He doesn’t hang up so Steve and Bucky are privy to the argument between Curtis and Mace. Steve finds himself unable to argue with either man as they go back and forth between priorities. He’d heard rumors Curtis was going soft for Teach but this confirmed it for him. He can’t say he wouldn’t be doing the same if Hummingbird was in danger.

“Shit,” Steve cusses, earning a look from Bucky. “We gotta get a hold of Levinson. Start moving people out of here just in case a war does break out.” 

Bucky nods as Mace gets back on the line with them. “I don’t know how much of that you heard,” Mace’s voice is cold and a little shaky, “but Curtis is taking an axe with him.”

“Fuck,” Bucky whispers. 

“We’ve gotta get a plan in motion and we can’t do that without intel,” Steve says. “I need you and your team to focus on that. If you can find Teach you will tell me her location first so I can talk Everett down. In the meantime we’re getting Levinson to start getting the more at-risk people out of here.”

Bucky nods and adds, “we’re gonna up our patrols a bit and make sure no one goes out unarmed. I’m gonna call in a few friends, Nat should be done setting up McMann’s wife, Barton says he’s been feeling on edge so he’ll be happy to hear it ain’t for nothing.”

“Stay safe, Boss,” Mace says before hanging up.

You’re getting your things ready for whatever it is Steve has planned. He’d called you earlier and told you that there was an emergency and he needed to bring you to his place for a while for safety. Hearing a knock at the door you check through the peephole first to confirm it’s Steve. You let him in and he immediately bearhugs you.

“You’ve got your things packed,” he asks. 

“Just finished.” He nods at your response and gestures for you to follow him. The entire quick walk to the car you can see he’s on alert. His shoulders are tense, every noise warrants a look or quick investigation. 

When you’re inside the car Steve seems a little more relaxed. You know from previous discussions the tinted windows are bulletproof and it looks like he’s got his best driver, Dayton White, behind the wheel. You get the impression the “emergency” he talked about means he’s in danger. 

“Is it safe to talk,” you ask, squeezing his hand.

“Technically,” he replies. “Better to wait until we’re inside.” 

You nod and hold his hand the entire trip. 

When you reach Steve’s office he starts taking and making a storm of phone calls. The primary seems to be someone named Levinson. You trust Steve to explain things so you sit and wait patiently. 

After about an hour a grizzly bear of a man comes in, “Steve, where is she?”

“Ari,” Steve greets. “She’s right there,” and he points to you. “Hummingbird, I need you to go to a safehouse out of town with Levinson.”

“Excuse me,” you ask. “I have no idea what’s going on. Why am I not safe here with you?”

Levinson looks at Steve, eyebrows raised, “you didn’t tell her anything?”

“I’ve been kinda busy,” Steve barks. He looks at you, “we’ve got a very dangerous man looking to bring us down. He will not hesitate to take out anyone that might be remotely associated with us. Ari is our best at coordinating people to get them out of danger without drawing attention, I want you to go with him.”

“Is everyone else out,” you ask.

Steve’s brows furrow in confusion, “what do you mean?” 

“I mean are the others safe already,” you reply. “The nieces and nephews? The Family members that run the legitimate businesses? Are they safe?”

“I want you out with the first few trips,” Steve orders.

“No,” you retort. “I get that I’m important to you and that puts a target on my back, but I’m not leaving and taking up Mr. Levinson’s precious time that could otherwise be spent protecting the more vulnerable Family members!”

“You’re wasting his time now,” Steve scolds. “Just go with him and do as he says so I know you’re safe!”

“I’m not the priority for escape,” you argue. “I can stay inside this fortress. Not everyone else can. Get them out first and then I’ll go!”

Steve is cut off by his phone ringing. “It’s Jensen, I gotta answer.” He keeps glaring at you, trying to stare you down as he barks, “what?!”

“We…we got Teach’s location, Boss,” Jensen stutters. “Cairo hotel on 45th and Washington.”

Steve writes as he speaks, “Cairo hotel, 45th, Washington, got it. Now get back to work on Lloyd.” He hangs up and goes to speak to you but Ari cuts him off. 

“Cairo hotel? I know the manager there. What’s going on?”

Steve takes a breath, “we’ve got a person, a civilian, who appears to have been kidnapped by Lloyd. Tracker on her phone says she’s there.”

“Well, let me give him a call and see if he can’t get her out,” Ari takes out his phone. 

Steve sighs, “and if he gives you trouble, tell him Everett’s gone Berserker and will do anything to get her out safely.”

Ari freezes at that, “holy shit. I don’t think Pine will let him in.”

“I’ll talk him down first, get him to give up his axe,” Steve assures. Ari nods and walks away to make his phone call. Steve then turns his attention to you, “and you are leaving to get somewhere safe.”

“Again, Steve,” you insist, “I am not the priority here. Let the other family go first, I’ll stay right here where you can see me, and after they’re gone, and after that poor woman gets rescued, I’ll get out. I promise.”

Steve is already worn out from the slew of arguments he’s been having so he relents, “fine. But you do not leave my sight. You stay in this room.”

“Yes, Sir,” you smile gently.

He gives you a warning look and calls up Curtis. It takes him a few tries but Everett finally answers. You can hear him yelling over the phone. “We have her location,” Steve tells him. “I’ll give it to you if you calm the hell down.”

There’s some more angry yelling before Steve gets in another word,“because if we’re not careful a lot more people will be hurt and killed. And I know you know that. The last thing we need is Berserker. Now get yourself together, Everett. Put away the axe and I’ll tell you where you can get her. Full stealth operation.”

Steve looks at you and his eyes soften, “do you really want her to see you like this?”

It must’ve done the trick because he tells Curtis what the plan is as Ari returns with some of the finer details of his friend accepting the visit. When they’re done talking Ari leaves to get others moving out of danger and Steve drops into his office chair. 

“Sounds like he’s really in love with her,” you comment. 

Steve nods, “though from what I hear he might not realize it yet.”

“They’ll figure it out soon enough, I’m sure.” You take Steve’s hand in yours. “Sometimes it can take a while.” 

He nods again, “took me a couple years to actually ask you out.”

You look into his eyes, “and it’s taken me a few extra months to say, I love you, Steve.”

His eyes are a mixture of adoration and happiness as he kisses your hand, “I love you too, Hummingbird.”

Part 5 -- Part 7

Series Masterlist

Tags:

@alicedopey; @aryhyuuga; @cynic-spirit; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @ktficworld; @rayofdawnworld; @rebekahdawkins; @texmexdarling

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know.

[alexsoenomel]

Chokehold (Sam Winchester x Reader smut)

Request: Hey I don’t know if you’re taking requests but I was reading Adrenlize Me and I had an idea for a part 2? Sam and reader have been getting at it for a bit but this time they finally say “I love you” to each other? Rough smut with a little dash of fluff? 🥰

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: sexy times and I love you’s, mentions of addiction 

Word count: 2.1k

Note: I apologize for being so slow (school+work+ADHD). Writing this made me realize how single I actually am.

 Enjoy! Like/Reblog or both if you like it! :)

PART 1

Addiction. First, it feels like a warm hug, sucking you in, disguising itself as something familiar, something beautiful, and finally, you feel like you filled that hole in your soul. Then it starts taking, it takes and takes until there is nothing left to take, until you cannot give anymore – until you’re dead. You find out, a little too late, that the warm hug was just a one-way ticket to your inevitable demise.

This started as a deep-seated need but turned into a full-blown addiction sooner than I thought, but the only difference was this was a blissful one, with no reaper waiting for you at the end. It only brought endless pleasure. 

Sam was no better than me. We couldn’t stop ourselves; every touch, every kiss would send us into a euphoric state, and it was better than any drug known to man. 

After our little adventure in Dean’s beloved Baby, we tried to keep our dirty little secret hidden. Sam would come to my room only during the night when he could hear Dean snoring in his room, and even then, we had to be careful since Dean was a light sleeper. He would muffle my moans with his hand whenever he was on top of me, he would sometimes even let me bite his shoulder, but it was impossible to be quiet, especially when we both liked listening to each other come undone. Long story short, Dean found out.

“Good thing you two lovebirds finally got together! The bad thing is now I cannot sleep.” He told us one morning while sipping his black coffee, clearly tired and cranky. 

Lovebirds.

That word was stuck in my brain that day. It still would pop up occasionally. It reminded me that we never labeled our little arrangement. When it happened, we would carry on, pretend like this thing was meaningless, and then we would do it all over again. We would cover every topic under the Sun apart from this one. We completely ignored it, but it was there, just around the corner, something more than just a meaningless hookup. 

Sure, he was able to make my legs shake, make me forget my existence, and his touch would set me on fire every damn time, but the way he would look at me right before I would come, the way we would look at each other…  I knew I was falling for him. 

We were birds of a feather –we connected through art, books, and music. We liked the same things but were far different characters. I was more of a 'Shoot first, ask questions later' kind of girl, like his older brother, and he was far from that. He was my voice of reason when I would let my emotions consume me; he was the one who would tell Dean and me to get our shit together whenever we would jump the gun (and that would often happen because we were both hotheads). We worked perfectly together. 

***

"God, I'm exhausted!" I said and put my bag on the table. 

We just got back from a hunt in Omaha, Nebraska, and it was a wild one. It dragged to no end until we finally ganked the ghost that was killing unfaithful men. I almost got thrown off the balcony, Dean almost got stabbed, and Sam, well he took care of it. Overall, I was just happy the case was over and, that I could sleep in my/Sam's bed. 

"Me too! Gonna hit the hay!" Dean said taking his shoes off. 

"Already? It's only 10 pm." Sam said. On a rare occasion, Dean would sleep early, he was the worst night bird in the flock. For him, 2 am was too early for bed, and mornings started at noon. 

"Sammy, I almost got stabbed today! Yeah, already." Dean said and disappeared into the hallway. 

"Night, Dean!" I said. 

"Night, night!" I heard him say. 

I was immediately hit with the realization that I was alone with Sam. There was something so alluring about him that made me nervous in the best way possible. It would boost my dopamine and adrenaline – like a drug. I swallowed nervously as I turned to see he was staring back at me and I immediately recognized the look – the look of devotion. 

"What?" I asked. He looked tired, with messy hair, and bags under his eyes. I was a tired mess too. During these days caffeine kept me awake and sharp since we were working night and day trying to solve the gruesome mystery. 

"Shower?" He asked.

"Please!" 

We went to his room since I would spend most of my nights there. What started as casual, grew to be a routine. I started hating sleeping alone in cold sheets – his warmth kept me safe. 

When we entered his room, pleasant silence joined us. We stripped down our dirty clothes and sins as we went to the bathroom. We didn’t say a word until warm water touched our tired bodies.

“Warm enough?” Sam asked me.

I nodded. He shampooed my hair, and I did my body while letting my muscles relax under the shower, feeling every part of me slowly shutting down from exhaustion.  Once my hair was nice and cleaned and I turned to face Sam, kissing where his heart was as I balanced myself on my tiptoes since he was much taller than me. 

“My turn?” I asked and got on his knees, like he usually would do when I wanted to wash his hair, and wrapped his hands around my waist, cupping my ass. It wasn’t the first time we showered together, the aftercare was as important for him as it was for me, but this time it felt far more intimate and real. The aftercare would usually turn into rough shower sex, leaving me breathless and sometimes even covered in bruises, but this time I saw true intimacy and meaning of showering together. 

Sam kissed my stomach as I washed his hair, sending light shivers all over my body. His hand went between my legs, and a light moan escaped from my lips. 

“All done!” My voice trembled. Sam stood up and kissed me hungrily. I could never get enough of his kisses, his lips were soft, kisses sweet kinda like cherries in spring, nothing like I’ve ever tasted before. He broke the kiss as our eyes met, water still running down our bodies. I could feel his breath on my lips. The air, even though hot and heavy, got a little bit chilly for a second – or was I getting nervous? I could feel my heartbeat in my throat. I didn’t know why I was getting nervous. Everything that seemed familiar was now foreign to me. Even though we fucked a million times, even though we both had seen each other naked, I was still feeling that tickling sensation in the pit of my stomach. 

Sam turned off the shower. We did our night routine in blissful silence. Skincare, haircare, the whole nine yards…in blissful pleasant silence. Sam even started using my Vitamin C serum, when I told him how good it is for the skin. 

I was pleasantly surprised when he took a little bit of my hydrating cream after the serum. I would always use that after having a rough day on the job, it did wonders for my tired skin. 

“You’re learning,” I told him as I brushed my teeth. 

“From the best.” He simply said. 

***

I didn’t remember the last time I did my night routine in my bathroom – and it all started when Dean caught me leaving his room to get my toothbrush. 

“You two are louder than a jackhammer!” He told me as he opened the door of his room, messy hair, eyes barely open, clearly feeling creaky from lack of sleep…again. “Keep it down, or I swear I’ll kill you both!”

“Sorry!” I was embarrassed but trying hard not to laugh.

Ever since then, I decided not to leave his room during the night. So, naturally, I started leaving my stuff in Sam’s room. 

***

After we got in our pajamas; Sam in his gray sweatpants and me in my oversized blue T-shirt I “borrowed” from him, got under the covers. I could feel my whole body relaxing, as I let my mind drift God knows where…I was ready to fall asleep, but Sam had other plans. He wrapped his hand around my waist pulling me closer to him. His semi-hard cock was pressed against my ass, and I felt his lips on my neck. 

“Yeah, Sammy?” I bit my lower lip. 

“I don’t wanna sleep.” He mumbled between kisses. 

I turned around, missing the softness of his lips on mine. I kissed him, feeling the minty taste on his lips. My hand went in his hair, pulling him closer to me. He moaned when I pulled his locks, sending shivers all over his body. He pushed me back onto the mattress as he climbed on top of me, leaving kisses all over my jaw and neck. I loved his lips on my skin, I loved everything about them; the softness, the taste, the ability to make me wet in seconds… 

“You got me worried today,” Sam whispered between kisses. 

“Sorry, I was a hot-headed dumbass.”

I thought I could take down the ghost by myself. I didn’t stick to the plan and almost got thrown off the balcony when the damn thing attacked me – my mistake.

“Like always.”

And that’s why you love me. I bit my tongue. I felt my walls completely coming down under him. I didn’t care about labels, I didn’t care what we were, I just knew my heart was struggling to stay silent. I wanted to say those words as much as I desperately wanted to hear them from him. 

“Shut up and kiss me!” I told him instead. 

Sam pressed his lips on mine, this time his hand went down my stomach between my legs. His fingers were cold, making my skin shiver, but his touch bought endless pleasure. 

I could feel his two fingers in me for a few seconds before he pulled away. 

“Tease,” I said annoyed. He loved making me beg and feel desperate and I loved every second of it. 

He licked his fingers clean and kissed me letting me have a taste as well. 

“You are delicious.”

Everything about this seemed different. He was sweeter and far more gentle. Usually, he would tell me to be quiet, his good girl, he would be rough, but this time…he wasn’t? He had a gentle side, but I’d rarely see it. I felt something was different. I felt my heart connecting with his and my soul feeling closer to his own. 

“And you’re a tease.” 

He laughed, showing off those cute little dimples I adored so much. 

"Just a little. " He smirked before kissing me again. I was growing impatient, and it was like he heard me. He wasted no time, he moved my panties to the side as I helped him lower his sweatpants. He entered me slowly, letting me adjust to his size, letting me bask in the pleasure his cock was giving me. I buried my fingers into his damp hair, arching my back slightly. 

"You feel so good!" 

He would always tell me that. Every time. No exception. He knew his words made me needy, horny, and desperate…He knew what buttons to push. 

He started to move and that was when my heart decided to work against me…or it did me a favor? My eyes were lost in his, not wanting to break the contract. I was feeling every inch of him, slowly moving in and out, skin to skin….

"I love you!" 

I heard myself say. My heart was pounding, I could see his expression change as his hair was falling on my cheeks…he smiled and kissed me.

"I love you too!" 

I didn't expect this answer from him. At the moment it didn't seem real but I think we both knew it was coming. Between the constant staring, and flirting just to gross out Dean and the genuine connection we had, we knew…

Sam's pace became faster, and I was slowly losing it. His face was inches away from mine, feeling each other's breaths as my climax was getting closer. I could feel my body shaking, my nails digging into his back as I couldn’t get his name out of my mouth. 

“Come on, baby!” He whispered in my ear. 

I loved his voice, I loved his touch, his kiss. I loved him.

I came hard, biting his shoulder (Sam didn’t even flinch), not wanting to be too loud because of Dean and his “Next time I’m gonna kill you both” sentence. 

He kissed me before collapsing next to me. We were both panting, waiting for someone to say something, to break the ice that had already been broken when I told him I love you. But no one did. Instead, we fell asleep, my head on his chest, safe and sound. 

[paper-starz]

WELCOME HOME THEORIES AND ANALYSIS! FRIDAY THE 13th EDITION!

HUH?? A surprise Welcome Home Update???

WITH LORE AND SECRETS?!?!?!

Ohohohoho! You know yours truly loves lore! And oh boy... Theres a lot to unpack here.... So buckle your seatbelts folks! I might've discovered something BIG

WARNING! THIS WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR THE HALLOWEEN UPDATE! OH AND THIS IS GONNA BE VERY VERY LONG!

Ok, first things first, THE THEORY

I might've figured out who the main antagonist could be, and it's not Wally or Home. In fact, it has been staring at us the entire time, we've just never realized it.

I think the main villain of Welcome Home could be the spooky swirly void living inside of Home.

"WHAT?!?! This early on in story??" I hear you say! "This couldn't be possible!"

ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE DEAR VIEWER! And truth be told, there could be multiple antagonists in Welcome Home, but all evidence points to this swirly guy being the source of everything wrong thats happening. Also, from now on, I'll be calling it the Entity. (Spooky swirly man sounds so silly!)

EVIDENCE 1: It makes people sick.

It seems like the Entity emits some kind of black "ink" that makes people sick once you touch it. It also seems like the WHRT knows about this too! Going into great lengths to order everyone to wear gloves.

Writing on sticky note atop vinyl glove box reads: Put on gloves before handling ANY art. Call me if we run out!

Not to mention that think ink also seems to effect anyone psychologically, making them want to discover more about Welcome Home, even if it harms their own health.

In the ABOUT US page:

When I unwrapped the first letter, I felt it. I heard it. Open. Open. Open. I want it out. I’m going to get it out.

In the STAFF ONLY page:

Everything is so disgusting to touch. Sometimes the mail doesn't come for weeks. I want to rip into everything I have. My head feels so muddled too. Ever since I opened the envelope.

I keep getting phone calls, now. Or at least, I assume that's what's happening. I keep hearing it ringing. All day, sometimes. I check my phone and there's no new messages. I thought maybe some of the site staff were pranking me, but I tore up the workspace and couldn't find another phone that might be ringing. All that was there were the toys for the exhibit, and obviously those couldn't be ringing. But I kept hearing it anyway. The phone ringing and ringing... ...I keep digging and digging. I've poured over every recovery the WHRP has given me access to, every inch of their website, and the things I find make less and less sense. If I didn't know better I'd say everyone was coming together to pull an elaborate prank on me. I can still hear the phone ringing now. I don't know how to answer the phone. I need to answer the phone.

The NEWS PAGE also mentions ringing! (This could be the same person who has been affected by the ringing)

So many guest signatures… So many of them are trying to communicate. What are you telling me for? Do you think I can answer? What are you trying to do to me? I’m closing that guest book, I’m not playing this game anymore. The ringing is enough.

And even affecting them physically as well!

NEWS PAGE

What is it, I hear you pleading! Clawing at your screens just as we have! Coughing, headaches, nausea- I know. I know. It will take a lot of cleaning, preparation, and polishing on our part, but it is a worthwhile labor of love.

Coughing, headaches, nausea.... The Restoration Team is growing sick, yet they are completely obsessed with restoring more evidence for Welcome Home.

They even know that they are growing sick, they wear gloves, they clean, they prepare, they polish the artwork over and over and warn anyone NOT to touch the ink, but it's not enough. They need to restore Welcome Home, even at the cost of their own health.

Heck, the entire page (and studio) is literally dowsed with black ink!

And it seems to be growing too...

Theres more stuff on the walls I keep hearing phones ring.

"More stuff" as if he's surprised, as if there were less ink on the walls than before. And he keeps hearing phones ringing... Its growing...

And it made its way into the real world....

EVIDENCE 2: SALLY'S HORROR STORY!

Ah yes! Some evidence from the Halloween Update! This time, from Sally Starlet’s Macabre Menagerie of Monstrous Mischief Making! Specifically, I want to analyze the "noticeable gap" in the audio, the only part where the WHRT did NOT transcript. (This was written by yours truly btw!)

SALLY: What?! No, no, and no! …It is because this town is rumored to have visitors at night… Something from deep within the forest, far beyond the hills and mountains… No one knows what it wants or where it’s going, just that it is persistent… Just that it arrives here. So many stories have risen about their origins… But I know what it is searching for. It is looking for neighbors who have stayed past the daytime, to gobble them up whole. That is why so few live here. It moved through the streets at night, but it doesn't break into homes. However, on rare instances, it will find itself with an appetite left…. unsatisfied by its aimless wandering. Even the occasional unfortunate insect that has crossed its path is not enough… Those who have lived through the night say it isn't quiet about it either. They always say you can hear when it gets closer to you. Do you know what sound it makes? I hear it. Every. Night. You can hear it too, if you listen. Especially if you wait next to your window. First, theres rustling in the bushes. Then, A scratching on the pavement and the walls as it crawls up. Finally, if you're quiet, you can hear its guttural sound…

Now, I know what you're asking. Why even bring up this little story at all? What does this story have to do with the Entity?

Context, my dear viewer. If you listen closely, the audio is too clear. No static, no nothing. This segment is also the only part where it didn't get transcripted because it was "inaudible". Which is strange, because you and me and you and that guy and me can hear it just fine! And THAT is why it got me theory senses tingling.

Plus, the story is about a monster too! Coincidence? I THINK NOT!

So let's analyze!

"…It is because this town is rumored to have visitors at night… Something from deep within the forest, far beyond the hills and mountains… No one knows what it wants or where it’s going, just that it is persistent… Just that it arrives here."

This could be talking about the Entity. We don't know what exactly the Entity wants, just that it looks like it's determined to reach a goal that we don't know much about.

"It is looking for neighbors who have stayed past the daytime, to gobble them up whole. That is why so few live here."

It feels like this is talking about the portal-like properties the Entity has. "Gobbling" up neighbors whole and sending them to another dimension, ours.

Sally also states "That is why so few live here", which makes me question how many neighbors used to live here before. Perhaps Julie's siblings, Howdy's family, Barnaby's mom? Were they sent to another dimension? Where are they now????

Not only that, but Sally makes it clear that it goes after neighbors at nighttime. And what time does Welcome Home usually update? 7 PM (*Now, this time could be different because of timezones, but the updates usually happen during the night)

"It moved through the streets at night, but it doesn't break into homes. However, on rare instances, it will find itself with an appetite left…. unsatisfied by its aimless wandering..."

"First, theres rustling in the bushes. Then, A scratching on the pavement and the walls as it crawls up. Finally, if you're quiet, you can hear its guttural sound…"

I think Sally is giving us an EXACT description on how the Entity managed to break into Home.

1st, theres rustling in the bushes. Home does have bushes surrounding him.

Then, a scratching on the pavement and walls as it crawls up. The Entity could've broken into Home by either climbing through the window or through the roof.

Finally, a guttural sound. Now... where did I hear a guttural sound in Welcome Home before.... Oh yeah! Wally. <- Click this handy-dandy clip and you can hear something quite monstrous right below Wally's voice!

"Wait a minute.... Did you say Wally has a guttural voice???"

I did, dear reader. I did.... Which brings me to my next point:

EVIDENCE 3: POSSESSION AND PUPPETEERING!

Throughout our inspection of the Welcome Home website, we've seen countless times of Wally becoming more and more distressed as each update comes out.

But we've also seen a lot of inconsistencies regarding our lil' Darling! In fact, I even compiled these into a theory in which there could be 2 people hacking into the website!

And while that I still do believe there are more than 2 people hacking into the website... I don't think the Question Answerer is the one doodling. He's still hacking onto the website, but unlike Wally, he writes it out.

The last piece of evidence just proves its the same guy writing this! The Question Answerer!

I want to rip into everything I have. My head feels so muddled too. Ever since I opened the envelope. (see above)

Ok but if the Question Answerer isn't the other guy doodling... then who is making all of the inconsistent doodles??

Why, the ENTITY!

Not only are the doodles inconsistent, but even the sound of Wally's voice sound... quite off if you compare enough audios.

For example! Compare the interview audio with the newest Happy Haunting audio, do you notice anything peculiar about Wally's voice? Especially in the Happy Haunting audio? (If you have trouble finding it, compare these few timestamps below)

4:08

4:51

8:45

13:39-15:29

It sounds... off. Robotic even! It's slow, and the articulation is way different from the interview audio. In the interview audio, you can hear how happy Wally sounds! Even in this audio (and this one too), you can hear Wally growing increasingly frustrated. Yes, its still monotone, but you could hear emotion!

But the Happy Haunting audio, it's neutral. Yes, it IS monotone, but it feels like someone doing an impersonation of Wally rather than Wally actually speaking himself. In fact, the audio reminds me of the phone audio right here. It has the same pauses and neutral tone, save for the very audible growl right underneath Wally's voice.

But speaking of the phone audio.... Did you catch that?

...Do you know who I am? [The heart beat and ambience resume.] [Gasp.] Oh no. Well that’s not neighborly at all. We’ve never met before. But don’t worry. Even though you and I haven’t spoken before, I’ve seen you... Every time you have looked into my eyes. I want to know… What did you see? [Silence.] I hope you saw a friend, but I’m not sure you saw a name... Stand still. Let’s start over. Ring ring ring. Click. Hi, I’m Wally. I’m so happy to finally meet you, I think you’re the absolute most.

...That's strange, isn't it? We definitely HAVE met Wally, not formally, but we do know about him (this fandom is proof of that!) So how come Wally is saying that we haven't?

Especially when in another audio, he says that we DO 'know him'.

…Why won’t you answer me, neighbor. Why can’t I hear you. You know me. You do. Please open. Let me in.

Contradictory, isn't it? We can't both know Wally and NOT know Wally at the same time. That's impossible....

Unless the phone audio Wally isn't our Wally... its the Entity.

Technically, we DON'T know about the Entity. It's not a character in Welcome Home and the things that we do know about it are just mere theories and speculations. It is our 'first' formal meeting with it.

Then why did it introduce itself as Wally? WELL BECAUSE ITS POSSESSING HIM! It's trying to convince us that it is Wally, using his signature catchphrase and even saying 'I hope you saw a friend'. Besides, if you were a weird portal monster, I doubt you would introduce yourself as one if you wanted to trick someone.

And if this possession theory does turn out to be true, it does explain the major inconsistencies happening in the website! Such as the doodles!

The Hearts!

THE HANDWRITING

THATS NOT WALLY'S HANDWRITING! He writes in CAPITAL LETTERS and in RED (not all lowercase and in blue!).

WALLY CAN'T DRAW HEARTS SO WHO'S DRAWING EM???

AND BOTH OF THOSE BARNABY DRAWINGS SURE DO LOOK INCREDIBLY DIFFERENT FROM EACH OTHER. ALMOST AS IF SOMEONE WITH LITTLE DRAWING EXPERIENCE DID IT.

But if you still need a bit more proof to convince ya, here's some more!

W a L L y: You won't write back Wally: You're looking for me. Silly. Silly.

I think W a L L y is our Wally! He's getting desperate, but he knows that we won't be able to write back. Wally on the other hand is the Entity, it knows that we are looking for the main big bad antagonist, and it knows. It even mocks us.

And I think we've seen evidence of these possessions before. Look at none other than the bug audios!

In every single one of these bug audios, we are in the perspective of Wally himself. But in these bug audios, Wally doesn't say anything at all. Rather, he sits unmoving, listening into the conversation whether he has been invited there or not!

In this bug audio, Wally has been listening in on Sally and Howdy's conversation the entire time!

But thats not all! All of these bug audios are connected according to the conversation between Barnaby and Home! Which means that all of these bug audios are happening on the same day at a very short period of time, which is concerning on just how frequent Wally appears to be disassociating. Or if that's even Wally at all!

If that is the Entity controlling Wally, it feels like he's observing them, studying them. Perhaps that's why the audios always cut out whenever a neighbor says Wally's name, it snaps him out of that trance and reminds him that he is in fact the real Wally!

Which brings us to our latest bug audio (and by far the most worrying one), the Candy Spider! The Halloween Bug?? Idk it's this one <-

We've just gotten proof of Wally munching on an apple. This would've been fine and dandy in any other situation, but remember viewer! Context matters! Especially if we put into consideration that that is not Wally.

BARNABY: ‘Ey, how’s my little devil doin’ over ‘ere? You guardin’ my apple for me, pal? [There is a brief pause. What is he doing.] BARNABY: Oh— heh, I guess ya didn’t do a very good job at it. [Barnaby calls out to the room] Hey! Who took a bite outta my apple? I think I see some fang marks, Frank!

Yeah that SURE is definitely not worrying. Nope, none whatsoever!

Oh boy... I think that's everything. Well, not everything everything. I still don't think the Entity is the only bad guy, just the main one! The Playfellow Workshop is very suspicious, and while I do believe Wally and Home are most likely victims of everything that is going on, I don't think I should say that they are quite innocent yet.

In the banner, they are the only two NOT separated by hearts! It seems to me that they are working together to give out more evidence to the WHRT.

And Marlo... another company that is VERY suspicious. What did their logo look like again?

A house logo with an eye in the middle.... Why does that look so familiar?

AH.

Well that's clearly not suspicious!

[lizaluvsthis]

Yes we have... SHORT FICS FOR THE ART'S CONTEXT!

(More yumyum foods)

First art after I vanished!

"Breathe deep..."

Three sunk himself deeper from the bed until...

He woke up to see that he was floating in deep abyss of the water. He wondered how he got here.

He was in a dream. He felt aware about what it felt like... the water flowing his hair upwards, three remained silent. With no urge on what to do or whatsoever...

The water blocking his hearing. No sounds played.

He closed his eyes, tried relaxing his mind and body. Breathing... exhaling... bubbled formed...

"Breathe deep and remember..."

Remember... remember... re... remember what exactly..?

What was he supposed to remember? What was his purpose for doing this so?

Loosening himself off the heavy things...

Taking a bit of a break from everything hard...

"You're okay..."

"You're gonna be okay..."

"You're always okay."

"I am not okay..."

He told himself he was fine, he'd always been fine. Why else wouldn't he be?

What is this gentle and caring emotion that has been giving him? When did he get too comfortable?

Letting all of his negative emotions surpass the blue calming water.

Allowing himself to drift from deep blue..

"If you can't handle your own emotions, just set it all free!"

Keep calm and carry on...

2nd art (repost because why not?

"Close my Eyes"

In reality I forgot to put context so pardon.

Washing Mashine Heart by mitski

Three felt like he wanted to pluck both of his own eyes... wanting to hold the tears... wanting to forget about the things he did...

Fear of everything that he'll lose one day...

Right after what happened...with the castle...

"We're friends!"

...

Its hard to lose him again...

He wondered how did he get too close from him? How he admired the touch of friendship he now has forming with him... he wondered why it even matter to him...

Hence, that he wished from a shooting star. To forget what he had all saw... with everything... so many things... that he didn't want to see again...

Pluck it out.

"Keep those eyes to yourself..."

Blue said. "How are you supposed to see what life gives when everything you've been seeing with your own eyes, meant so much to you...?"

He never spoke, still remained silent. Three closed both of his eyes in a warry night of cold and black.

Smg4 placed both hands in Three's eyes.

"Now open your eyes... what do you see...?"

SMG3 opened his eyes, pitch black is seen around his view. No gap of light from Four's bare hands were shown, just him, and the sight of nothingness...

"Black, I see pitch black..." Three responds, trying to ignore how both of Four's hands are carefully covering his eyes. But he could feel that his hand was cold, a little rough coming from his scars that recovered during the incident.

"Now try to imagine... in a world filled with life. How would you describe your own?"

...

..

.

At this point, the man in purple started to cry. He couldn't handle it. The burden pain that had been ripping his heart, felt like he wanted to tear his skin.

Tried holding his tears, holding it all, keeping everything together.

Bottling it all up...

It wasn't enough...

He wasn't... enough...

For someone... in particular...

He was weak, he made himself weak.

He held both of Four's wrist, the scars from his hands. Now same with his partner's.

He felt like he would melt in any second, not just because of what he'd realize behind what he had been shown.

It was all because of Four as well.

He felt like his insides were stabbing itself, not daring to say a word of another. But wanting to... yet he can't...

Everything felt worthless...

He tried to muster up a word... say something.... anything at all...

It was crushing him deep inside, he just couldn't do it...

Something getting stuck from his throat, strangling his neck even tho nothing physical .

But why couldn't he...?

"Empty... am I right?"

He wasn't wrong. His whole world was nothing, he was nothing, everything from his life used to be filled with chaos and hate. It was black. Well- used to be...

Now everything... at his current... now had filled him with life, the meaning, the shine that brightens up from the gaps beyond the trees whenever he goes out of his cafe.

Taking himself for a walk and happens to see nature.. so peacefully here... so calm... so...

Quiet..

He wonders how Four could even do it... how he could explain everything about it than just using words. How this felt so simple for him to do.

Now there was Four. From his point of view, he saw his ex rival casually hanging around with his close friend Mario while him...

Standing behind the tall trees, sharing a peek with his red eyes. To witness an eye catching wonder of smg4 laughing, a sweet and adoring laugh.

Made the full view of orange turning to blue, his color.

It was beautiful... it made him feel things that mostly have been felt whenever he saw him happy.

He wish that he had that too...

Why... not... me...?

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for wanting to spend a night out with a guy?

I'm twenty, study in university and still live with my parents. I've been planning to move out since I was eighteen, but they told me to keep living at home and not get a job so I could focus on studying while they take care of me financially. This arrangement has worked mostly well in the past years save for a few small conflicts, but it's escalated in the past 3-4 months.

The issue is my time schedule. I have a very active social life, am active in the local art scene, do political work and a lot of extracurricular stuff for university (I'm a straight A student, I might add!). Because of this, and because I'm a natural night owl, I usually come home late several days a week (between 10pm and 2am) and stay out all day for most of the week. This means I can't do a lot of chores, and usually there's a lot of housework because my mum has a bit of a cleaning anxiety and wants to make sure everything is spotless 24/7.

Enter this guy, I'll call him Tim. I met him at a festival last summer and we became long distance friends. Tim has visited me for a day several times before, but this weekend he offered to come over for two days and we agreed to spend the night stargazing together without sleeping. I loved the idea and immediately said yes. It was gonna be just us, a couple energy drinks, and some bench in the city center, and I was really looking forward to it.

The thing is, my mum does not like Tim. Like, at all. She thinks he seems very sleazy and generally distrusts him because he feels "too nice" for her. Mind you, he's just a somewhat shady looking guy who is generally pretty anxious he might make a bad impression, so he overperforms the whole "respectable member of society" act a bit around new people. I've introduced him to my friend group and even the more sceptical people absolutely love him and think he's a very sweet, helpful person. In basically every stressful situation I've ever seen him in he's been deescalating, protective and helpful, and he has on several occasions been my first source of comfort when things went to hell.

Today I told my mum in an offhanded comment that I won't come home between Sunday and Monday and the situation escalated completely. She was crying, accusing me of ruining her month, saying I didn't care about this family, it got ugly. The main point she had was that I was staying out all night with someone who's a total stranger to her and she doesn't trust him at all. In the end we compromised that Tim and I would spend the night awake, but not in the city, at home.

I feel really humiliated by this whole situation and honestly, kind of betrayed, because I was promised stuff like this wouldn't happen, and it just hits in a much safer situation than ones I've been in before (I used to get blackout drunk and sleep at parties a lot.). I'm a legal adult, have been for years now and it's so disappointing that my parents still treat me like a child sometimes and are so judgy towards my friends too. At the same time, I'm wondering whether I've acted wrong too by not telling her about this earlier and not taking her concerns that seriously. I forget sometimes that I talk to Tim every day for hours, but my parents only briefly ran into him once, so of course their view of him is skewed.

PS: I should add that when I told him about this, he immediately apologized, asked if I needed anything or wanted to change the plan and decided to dig out the least offensive outfit he could find so he'd make a good impression on my parents. So he's definitely trying his best.