#mouse!art donaldson

[judeable-brainrot]

Lamb art

Ferret art

Lil mouse art and unlikely friends with black bear patrick who keeps him warm in the winter months

oooooooOOOHOHOHOHOHOOOO

lamb!art, sweet little guyyyy. he's so curious with his soft curls, always loves to prance around and be in the sun! he's always talking and smiling, laughing and happy and bouncing around, so so softttt he's just a babyyy

ferret!art who has a problem with nibbling and nipping his friend's and partner's skin. he nuzzles into big blankets and pillows and he's SOOO restless all the time! poor honey as soo much energy in his lanky body he doesn't know what to do with it all!

and mouse!art, such a skittish sweety with his little twitchy nose and wide eyes. his best friend, bear!patrick, who protects him and drags him into his bed with him when it starts to get ridiculously colder, cradling his friend softly in his arms <3

[amymbona]

Literally Patrick and Art

[faistheist]

Them I fear

[tommoschaffner]

mike faist rat

mike faist rat

[bnecaz]

ew not mike faist 😭

he is mine okay, he is my mouse

[landryscurse]

art donaldson aka stuart little my beloved

[bowsandh03s]

Patrick zweig the type of guy to role play the whole “ step sister stuck in the dryer “ with his gf and all those other porn cliches

( definitely does the whole 🍆 in a pizza box thing with art as a “ joke “…)

[cricketcanelane]

I love my friends.

[zweiginator]

enemies to lovers with patrick is cool….BUT ENEMIES TO LOVERS WITH ART

like that man is a hater when he doesn’t like someone. i bet its so so intense

yup. and it's just one of those situations where neither of you remember why you hate each other so much. it's just a fact of life. the sky is blue. ice cream is sweet. and you and art donaldson fucking hate each other.

you met in middle school; you had just moved to town and started on the tennis team. art was good, great even. but you were fresh meat, and you were pretty and you got all the attention that year.

and then came high school, and even though you and art obviously never formally competed in tennis, you were always doing so subconsciously. you avoided each other at team dinners, never spoke at parties and even slapped him across the face hard enough to get you suspended for a week after he said you only made varsity after another girl moved away to maryland.

neither of you could even enjoy your full-ride sports scholarships to stanford, once you figured out the other would be joining you. four more fucking years.

you and art feigned the biggest smiles you could muster for the local newspaper in your stanford tennis hats, and scrubbed your arms raw afterwards, disgusted that you had to touch each other.

but stanford was big. and since he was obviously on the boys' team and you the girls, you didn't see each other as often as before. your friends on the tennis team mingled with him, and hung on his arm during formal events. you went on a few dates with one of the boys on the team, although there was never a spark.

one day at a team dinner, high school and hometowns came up. and everyone was confused that you both were from the same small town.

"you grew up together?" your teammate asked.

"yep." art raised his eyebrows, unamused.

"i've never seen either of you speak a word to each other."

"don't need to." you said.

another teammate, michael, spoke up. "something happen?" always nosey.

"he's a raging piece of shit." you moved your rice around your plate, plastering a fake smile on your face.

"and you're a bad fucking tennis player." he would never call you a name.

"so is that why we are on the same team?" you got up. "excuse me. i just became a little nauseated."

art stood up too. "yeah, me too."

you both went your separate ways to the bathroom, heated. the way he knew exactly how to crawl under your skin and rub and rub at the same sore spot until it drove you crazy made your cheeks red and your knuckles white.

you had a tennis party that night, after dinner. a mandatory tennis party--your coach had a roster and everything.

when you showed up, art was wearing a tux with a maroon tie. you wore a purple gown, silky with a deep neckline.

art turned away from you, swirling his glass of champagne.

it started with your eye roll. the whole night chasing each other like cat and mouse. it was fun, making digs at his stupid jokes, embarrassing him in front of girls he was flirting with.

art talked over you all night and scoffed at everything you said; played devil's advocate.

when he went out to smoke at 10:30, you followed him.

"leave me alone!" art turned away from you, shielding his cigarette to light it.

you don't know why you were being such a bitch. you tore it from his mouth and smashed it with your heel, and art called you out for it.

"why are you being a fucking bitch?" he snapped.

"excuse me?"

"yeah i called you a bitch because i don't know what else to call this pathetic, obsessive behavior."

"obsessive?" you stepped closer to him. "nobody is fucking obsessed with you."

art grabbed you by the chin. "lose the fucking attitude."

you retaliated, grabbing his wrist. "you started this."

"oh god," art scoffed. "yeah, sure I started it. you followed me out here."

your heart was beating fast. maybe for the past fourteen years you had been blind to him and he to you. because right now art looked different. his once crooked teeth were straight, spotted skin smooth and peppered with stubble. art noticed your pink lip gloss, the low cut of your dress, how it hugged your figure.

you grabbed his tie, and his hands found your ass as you kissed him. his hair was soft and smelled like sea water and coconut. he moaned against you, pushing you against the brick wall outside. the strap of your dress fell down and art's hand found your breast, his thumb rubbing against your nipple as your hand grazed against his cock, hard and visible, even through his pressed trousers.

"what are you doing?" you asked, gasping.

"what are you doing?"

you ignored him.

"did you drive here? where's your car?"

art took you there, to his black sedan, his hands on the small of your back, his hips rutting into you. the door was still ajar, the repetitive beeping of his car a mantra in your ears.

art bunched your dress up, admiring your pussy as he pressed a kiss to it, wet and needy. he would never tell you he had dreamt of it since he was fourteen.

[cybersunnie]

18+ / MDNI situationship; angry sex; college!art; f!reader; possibly ooc; art calls reader a slut (wc 975) with ART DONALDSON

Your relationship with Art Donaldson was complicated.

You two teetered between the line of friends and something more. A relationship that consisted of words left unspoken and constant what-ifs. (A dilemma he could never escape).

But the longing to become something more often felt one-sided. Because, for Art, it was always Tashi, tennis, Patrick, and then you. You were his fallback. Someone he went to when he needed a distraction. You just refused to believe you were so far down his list of priorities because how could you be with the way he kissed and touched you? Whispered your name in the dead of night like it was holy? Knew the ins and outs of you like a lover would? 

It was confusing—exhausting, even, having him all over you one day, then uninterested the next. Hot and cold. Cat and mouse. A never-ending cycle you grew comfortable with.

You figured that was how you found yourself bent over a bathroom counter on Saturday night, forced to you look at yourself in the mirror as Art fucked you from behind.

Art didn't want to go to the stupid frat party in the first place. He was only there because he let his tennis friends pressure him into going. And, as he expected, it was like every other party he attended at Stanford. Mundane. A pretty girl here and a pretty girl there to pay a compliment to. But most of the time, he kept to himself, hugging the walls to avoid being swept up into the rowdy crowd.

That was until he saw you.

You were as gorgeous as ever. All dolled up and wearing a mini skirt that left little to the imagination. Smiling and swaying your hips to the music like you didn't have a care in the world. Except you were dancing with another man. Your back flushed with his chest, his arm wrapped around your waist as his other hand drifted down to your thigh, holding you close. Too close. And, like you had been aware of his presence this entire time, your eyes locked with Art's, and he witnessed your sweet smile form into a smirk. 

Blood pumped through his veins, his stomach churned, and an unbearing heat encompassed him. 

He knew he had no right to be angry. You weren't his. Not officially, anyway. But that didn't stop him from seeing red. That didn't stop the green-eyed monster from consuming every rational thought in his mind.

And now, Art had you all to himself in a bathroom upstairs. 

The loud chattering and booming music from below did wonders to drown out your whimpers and cries. Art had your panties around your ankles and skirt flipped up over your ass, one hand on your hip and the other on your jaw as he fucked his cock into your tight cunt. 

"Is this what you wanted?" he rasped, his voice wrecked, almost unrecognizable. "Dancing with that guy, knowing it'd make me jealous—is this what you fucking wanted?"

While you intended to make him jealous, this wasn't what you expected him to do.

You just wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine, to let him know how it felt to be on the back burner. Art usually wasn't quick to anger. Unlike Patrick, he would try to refrain from giving in to his impulses. But you must've caught him on a bad day. You weren't complaining, though.

When you didn't respond, his grip tightened along your jaw, your cheeks smushed between his fingers. "Tell me."

You stared at his reflection in the mirror, the mess of blond curls and flushed cheeks, an all too familiar sight for you. "Fuck you."

The anger in his eyes disappeared for a split second. He almost looked hurt. "Why're you acting like this, huh?" Art asked softly, words tumbling from his mouth with urgency. He pulled you closer, his breath hot against your ear. You shuddered. "Acting like you're not my girl."

"Because I'm not."

"You are."

You cursed under your breath, trying and failing to keep your composure. "We're not—shit, together, remember?" 

Art scoffed, the irritation he felt earlier flooding back. "So you just let anyone fuck you like you're some slut?" He let go of your jaw to wrap his hand around your throat, relishing the subtle whimper that slipped past your lips. You shook your head. "Yeah, didn't think so. You only let me fuck this pretty pussy when I want, wherever I want, right?"

You braced yourself against the mirror, the glass cool on your forearms, your legs shaking as you struggled to keep yourself up. He hissed, "Say it."

Dumbly, you asked, "What?"

"Say that you're my girl."

Lost in the pleasure, you nodded without a second thought. In this moment, it was the truth. "I'm your girl."

"That's right. All mine." You heard the smile in his voice. "Fuck, wanna cum in your mouth—y'gonna let me, hm? Gonna let me fuck your throat?"

You realized a long time ago that you would let him do anything.

And then you found yourself on your knees, staring up at him with watery eyes like he was some sort of god, trying not to gag as he came down your throat. Soon after, Art helped you off the ground, your legs quivering, the taste of him fresh on your tongue. You heard his whispered praises from below while he pulled up your panties and felt the soft kisses he left on your thighs.

Once he stood up, fixing your skirt, you couldn't help but ask, "Do you actually like me?"

He stilled, and you didn't miss how he clenched his jaw. Instead of answering with words, Art leaned in and kissed you. That told you all you needed to know.

Of course, Art liked you. He just didn't like you enough.

author's note: i hate this but its been sitting in my drafts for too long 😭 and by too long, i mean since june (oops!)

LAST EDITED — 09.15.2024

[judeable-brainrot]

he’s Despereaux in human form, prove me wrong.

[chlmtsdoll]

omg omg yes patrickkk!! maybe something like he says something in regards to her relationship with art and tashi and how one day she’ll be alone and they’ll leave her after she retires and she gets all sad and just lots of angst ???

YES OMG this is just what I needed !! Even though Patrick is a real bully in this one I had a lot of fun with thisss I love writing intense emotions 🤍

NOTHING WITHOUT YOU

౨ৎ Pairing: ballerina!reader x Patrick Zweig/Art Donaldson/Tashi Duncan

౨ৎ Summary: Art and Tashi leave you home alone with Patrick, deciding to keep your distance from his dislike of you only goes but so far when you get caught in his wrath

౨ৎ Word count: 3.8k

౨ৎ Warnings: no use of y/n, sensitive!reader, sugar baby! reader, lots of angst, some fluff at the end, hurt/comfort, light verbal abuse, mentions of bullying, age gap (reader early 20’s), older!Patrick/Art/Tashi, protective Art & Tashi

While Art and Tashi had been out for the night seeing their daughter Lily in a local tennis tournament they were having for all the kindergarteners qualified in town, you’d stayed back at the penthouse the couple had been renting out for the time being. Although, you hadn’t been staying back alone — you were accompanied by the maid that waited on you all day to day and Patrick, who well, was brought along on this months tennis cycle.

It was mandatory you weren’t home alone during this time though. Tashi had been extremely potent on the matter, a strict rule about you being by yourself or out of her or Art’s view with Patrick. She made a big thing about how she didn’t trust the vindictive man that Patrick was around you. Even though it was known to you he was trusted within the couples sanctuary and personal life — they also were sure to remember he was Patrick at the end of the day.

With his deadly looks and slightly verbal abuse towards you since you met, down to his canine like draw that led him towards using his cruelty as shield for his compulsive desire that made him want to tear you down piece by piece. You didn’t know if it was because he still just couldn’t quite figure you out, or your purpose with the Donaldsons — why they were so intrigued with you or the fact that he wanted them, you, to himself.

It wasn’t overlooked by anyone that Patrick couldn’t stand the light that you were in Art and Tashi’s lives. With your innocent stares, fawning eyes at them like they were your world and stars, or how you always had a sense of obliviousness to your encounter. Always walking around the place in the tiniest shorts or pastel leg warmers trimmed with things he thought was all too ridiculous for you to be really real. At least not enough for him to take you seriously. Like ruffles or dainty flower trimmings of some sort that made his senses go untamed. You saw it whenever you’d walk by his robust presence as he’d sit and have a beer with Art. His eyes following your waist and perfect stature to do virtuous things like help the maid out with the laundry, kind smiles and sweet “please” and “thank you’s” as you folded attire. Or when you’d be quiet as a mouse in your the side of whatever massive place Art and Tashi would rent when you’d join them on tour during your off seasons, to pick up a thousand piece puzzle. Clench your fists in the cutest of ways when you got stuck in a loop of no hope to finish. But you always finished. You were the perfect sweet little thing.

He found you to be nauseating.

Your sweetness like a straight poison, always just too polite and never having outburst or a temper rise. To Patrick it seemed too good to be true, and you were. Just too good. Just to sweet for him. He wanted to destroy you.

Corrupt you, chew you up and spit you out.

And you just hadn’t known how to handle it or approach him at all, so not even knowing the appeal that Tashi and Art saw in him, you mostly ever just stayed away.

With the man being over an entire foot taller than you, you had no problem in keeping your distance. Any time you two were caught walking down a tight hall, his towering presence over you, he’d knock right into your miniature body. On purpose. Making you fly the other way, or when you’d basically spent most of the summer reading, he’d take your books by the spine and toss them across the room. If you were watching tv he’d snatch the remote from the coffee table and turn on a tennis match.

He was a grown man and a full blown bully.

You’d only put up with it because you knew it was in response of him not getting the same savory and tender treatment that Art and Tashi gave you. You were taking it all. Stealing their affections and hogging it from him with a naive (annoying to him) little smile on your face.

So you’d take a couple pushes and teasing if that meant you could hurt him in his weakest ally.

And you respected Tashi’s wishes of not sharing space with him for caution of yourself, but when the maid had to run out suddenly for an abrupt emergency — that plan had went downhill quickly.

You were left with Patrick Zweig all by yourself.

“Okay, I hope everything’s alright… see you next week.” you’d said your goodbyes to the maid as she hurried out of the place and you’d shut the grand doors behind her gently, turning on your heels to approach the kitchen area as your cold feet lightly toed against the marble floors. You decided not to bother making too much noise now that it had been just you and him. If you could just get through the next hour without having to get into an interaction with him and upset Tashi, it would be fine.

Nearing the close kitchen, you could hear switches of the second stove being turned and messed with. The sound irritating and getting louder as you stepped closer. Gas. Not the electric one that had also been provided right next to it.

When you walked in, of course Patrick had been hunched right over the stove, what looked like trying to light his cigarette in the most odd way that made you raise a brow on sight — until you remembered the rant he went on to Art and Tashi about leaving his one and only lighter back at one of the other rental homes in La. His fingers taking a quick break to scratch at his only slightly shaven dark colored beard to neck in modest confusion as he toyed with the fire. Just a couple seconds from catching onto his jeans.

You viewed the scene for a quick moment before letting out a piqued small sigh as you’d let him deal with that at his own funeral. You went to grab a soda from the fridge a few steps away from him.

Going through the loaded refrigerator stacked with only the highest healthy planned meals and smoothies, accompanied with fruits and cut up vegetables, you reached in the drawer to get a Diet Coke. The sound of Patrick just a couple moments away from burning the entire penthouse down made you scrunch your face up in annoyance before shutting the fridge by the handle.

“Could you not do that ? It’s really dangerous.”

His expression was hardened, Patrick looked up from his amateurish work to meet your glance when the sound of your soft chary voice had reached his ears.

“it’s fine, pipsqueak. I know what I’m doing.”

You rolled your eyes at the name he’d call you, and raised the sharp edge of the soda can to your lips as you watched the top of his cigarette beam a bright crimson at last. The taller fit man matched your gesture as he brought the stick to his mouth. Pink, and not reaching for a care in the world he let the smoke he breathed in travel out and above. You watched with hesitation to bring up the fact that the smoke detectors had been near flashing a signaling light just above him, you eyed the small but alarming circle before your eyes drifted back down to Patrick’s dark curls framing his face.

“You really shouldn’t smoke in here,” you crossed an arm over your cropped pj top that had displayed your belly button by a few inches. Patrick lifted his chin and peered down at your small figure to inspected you from your socked feet to your head through lidded eyes.

“Relax. Mommy and daddy aren’t here right now,” he scuffed in slight displeasure of your voice already. “Don’t you ever do anything apart from what you’re told ?.. ever ?”

“I’m just trying to be safe.” You had to crane your neck to look up at him, so it was much easier to just stare down at your feet against the floor before shifting your weight to the other. Patrick turned from your exposure already tired of you sticking your nose in his business anyways. He had looked at you like some stray kitten walking around the place unwanted and unfamiliar to his prey attitude.

“Well go be safe somewhere else.” His voice gravely before he started to chuckle in thought, you frowned. “Isn’t it pass your bed time anyways ? Oh, wait.. I forgot, you just have to stay up so you can see Art and Tashi walk through the door right ? Like some needy puppy or something ?”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you swallowed to coat your now dry throat in slight offense as you dropped your arms to your sides.

“Art always makes sure to make me tea and kiss me good night.” You defended even though your tone remained faint and Patrick only grinned in ignorance at your comment wanting to laugh a bit more at your seriousness for a joke.

“God. I almost feel bad for you, y’know.. you’re so dependent on them. They’re not your fucking parents.”

Patrick had pointed his cigarette to your presence and you shook your head at his words.

“I never said they were.”

“You don’t have to. You’re addicted to them.”

“And so are you.” You raised your voice a bit and Patrick moved to the counter in front of you with frustration. “You were just as lost as me before they acknowledged you again. Now all you do is pick me apart for it but you’re the same… and you’re just too jealous to admit it.”

Patrick had looked away as he begun to laugh with a smile that hid his insecurities deep down. Only to meet your eyes again, the most disquiet look of enmity in his stare that made you start to back up in regret. Right into the cabinets behind you without even realizing it.

“Jealous ? Give me a fucking break. You’re a pet.” He verbally spit at you and your lip quivered a bit at the name, he once again, had the upper hand on you. Because when he started to move closer, starting to tower over your fragile space you once called personal — you should of just gotten out of it then. But something stopped you from getting away.

You were frightened, his words too big, too rough for you to escape.

“And you know what’s sad ? Your brain isn’t even developed enough to know the difference. You’re gonna keep this up with them. Get so tightly wrapped up in this.. whatever the fuck- - and get your feelings all fucked up and confused thinking it’s love. That they really could love you, till one day you’ll be stuck on the side of the road with your life fully flipped over when they get sick of your little shit get up.”

His words were harsh as he snapped at you. Your body was frozen there as he backed you up into the deep of the kitchen, and even though you knew you could leave. Just walk away. Your limbs slowly started the tremble as well, nose flaring and redden as you fought back tears. You couldn’t let him win. But what if he was right ?

You knew he hated you enough to say anything to make you cry, but what if it had all been true.

Something inside of you broke.

“That’s not true,” your voice shaken as you shook your head to fight the anxieties,

“Yes. And you know it. They’ll leave you one day. Are you really that stupid, you can’t see it ? You think this will last ?”

You didn’t answer, and Patrick grinned.

“You’re a fucking tool, that they can play with and you let them. A toy.”

You tried to muster up the power to block him out. You were failing. Your heart pounded and you gripped the counter behind you in correlation to your discomposure as you begun to sniff.

“The way Tashi hardly looks in your eyes unless you’ve won every god damn tournament, they way your definitely as much to Art as a doll he can fuck to keep himself in the game. Face it. You’re no better than a hooker on the go.”

“No.” You started to cry, tears falling from your ducks before your brain could alarm your hands to wipe them, you uttered the word out as you faced Patrick and he still got in your face even closer. The man scowled at you as he pushed his words into you, cramming them in your head. He cornered your petite body in the side on the kitchen and you could feel the overwhelming hurt take over your body.

“Yes. You mean nothing to them.”

“No !” You screamed at him as tears streamed down your face as you tried to fight off his presence, not knowing what to do or where to go so you stood there and cried. And it felt pathetic. You let him win. He was bigger and smarter and knew better. You don’t know why you tried to stand against him, lord knows you were never going to win and now you were left the fool, crying like a child while being dog leg by Patrick Zweig.

You suddenly heard heavy foot steps and the sound of heels clashing against the floor as Art and Tashi rushed into the room at the sound of your scream.

“What the fuck is going on here ?” Tashi’s voice over powered the entire room as she dropped her bag and called out the maids name in hurried frustration of the scene she observed. “Where the fuck is she ?” Tashi huffed before telling her mom to take Lily to her room quickly, then storming back in to stop whatever they walked into.

“Baby ? Hey hey hey,” Art made his way over to your quivering body, face taken over by utter concern as he immediately took your shoulders into his hands and pushed Patrick roughly to the other side of the counter.

“The fuck are you doing, man ??” He cursed out at the other man. If you weren’t overwhelmed with emotion, you could say this was the first time you’d ever seen Art so terribly angry. But all you could do was turn away and sob into Art’s chest as he held you close, eyebrows furrowed deep and a fire in his eyes as he stared at Patrick like he could snap.

“I got this. Take her upstairs,” Tashi gestured to you and Art as she pushed between the two of them. It was in one swift motion that she tugged on Patrick’s ear by the lobe, forcing him to follow her out of the kitchen. He winced through his trailing behind her.

“Ow! What the- -”

Tashi jabbed him in the arm, and then again, then again till he he jumped back from her furious state.

“Are you a fucking idiot !? What is the matter with you ?!” Tashi roared at him with straight daggers in her eyes. “What did you say to her ??? I told you to stay the fuck apart !”

“Your brat came bothering me!” He grabbed Tashi’s wrists to yank her away from enforcing anymore pain on to him, but she just snatched her arm away mercilessly again. “She’s a little shit, so I told her the truth. You and Art just baby the fuck out of her for gratification. You don’t give a fuck about her, admit it. All of you are delusional !”

He argued and Tashi closed her eyes for a brief second with a deep breath before she got in his face.

“You’re a fucking piece of shit.”

Patrick rolled his eyes, but Tashi caught him off guard when she shoved him straight in his chest again.

“Who the fuck gave you the right, Patrick ? Are you blind ?? No one gives a shit about you ! It’s you !” Tashi had grunted with eruption, only getting madder because he had madden her so much already. She and Patrick both knew her words had only been half true, but it didn’t matter right now when he was playing so dirty and spitting words carelessly after the other. He truly did have no right.

Patrick stood there and looked at her, there was no use of more words when she had gotten like this and he knew she knew exactly how he felt about it all.

“Just- just- dispose of yourself somewhere. Go.”

“Where do you want me to go ?”

“I don’t give a fuck. Away from here, away from me. You’re an asshole.”

Tashi’s eye slightly twitched while she looked at the man in repulsion, and he was stone cold as he pushed passed her, knocking her shoulder as he slouched by, Tashi folded her arms.

“You will apologize to her first thing in the morning or you can pack your shit.” The irked woman gave a forced sympathetic smile before glaring at him and walking away, leaving Patrick there groaning in vexation as he shook his head.

Upstairs, you had been curled up in Arts lap. He held you in his arms as your soft cries and salty tears melted into the cotton of his shirt, he rubbed small circles against your back while he sat there in thought.

Art was distraught by the fact that whatever Patrick had said could of disturbed you so bad he had to find you crying your eyes out and shaking in the kitchen. He tried his best not to let you see the way his fists clenched and unclenched with his anger fueled throughout him, since he didn’t want to scare you or make you worry any more.

No matter what, Patrick always found a way to be a fucking dick. He just couldn’t understand the motive around why he’d want to make his perfect girl hurt or scream like that.

He felt your breathing start to steady as you sniffed and your face had been all hot and flushed, your heart had gone back to a normal pace, but you still were quite shaken as you curled farther into Arts embrace with a low wine.

“Baby, look at me. Can you sit up for me ?” Art’s voice chimes in sweetly through the sunken air of the room. He lowers his head to stare down at your state in his arms and you moved so you were sitting on your knees on the bed, you sniffed and Arts thumbs went to caress your face as he wiped a few tears from your damp cheeks. His icy blues met your wide teary eyes that were filled with sadness and your lip had been just swollen a touch.

“What happened ? Can you tell me what he said to you ?”

Your eyes travel down to his hands brushing your face and you held one of his wrists, your expression was laced with sorrow. You whimpered a little just from the memory, which Art noticed with a sigh. You knew it would feel better if you just got it out. Emptied the words from your chest because your kind and caring Art always took care of the worries for you, but it had been different this time. Because it involved the ideal of him leaving you.

You took your time to think as you sat on that bed with him. And Art watched your face soften under his comforting touch.

“He said I was nothing. That you’d leave, Tashi would leave. And i’d be stuck heartbroken with nothing because I don’t mean anything to either of you.” Your voice was sparse and trembled as you spoke to get the words out, Art already started to tense up as he listened. “Maybe- I- I am too dependent on you both, and I shouldn’t be because I’m so young and you guys don’t need another child on your arm to have to look after. I don’t want to be stupid.. I’m so- stupid.”

You wanted to sob again, your voice cracking and your hands going to cover up your face, the corner of Art’s lips twitched as he frowned, “no, no, no, sweetheart. Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

Art had brought you back into him as you cried softly under his chin, your arms wrapped around his torso and the older man sighed deeply. “Nothing is ever determined, and life takes us all in ways we just can’t predict, but I want you to know that whatever you choose to do, or want along the line — Tashi and I will always be here to support you. We’re not going any where and we would never leave you. Fuck that. You’re so loved, by us. You’re always welcomed in our lives no matter the circumstances that may come upon.”

You wiped your nose briefly before leaning up to look at the blonde once more, eyes searched his face for any uncertainty but all you found was honest and pure devotion.

“Really ?” You budged tenderly and Art brushed a few stuck locks that were caught in your wet face. He nodded with a light simper.

“Really, Princess. We adore you’re company and the person you are dearly. And you don’t have to think about all those bad thoughts right now, okay ?” He kissed the top of your head to your cheek while you hugged him like a lifeline. A feeling of warmth spread within you from there, worries calm and you felt collected of your emotions once again. You just wanted to be reassured. Words cut you and got to you deep. But right now being with Art, it was like the perfect bandage to your wound that was although bittersweet in theory, a very delicate heart.

You heard footsteps nearing as Tashi walked into the bedroom. She was looking exhausted. Absolutely tired from the inside out as she sat on the bed next to the two of you, your eyes met hers and you immediately curled up and laid your head in her welcoming lap when she settled. Soft hands against her leg where you felt the fabric of her dress pant brush your cheek, and a sullen sigh escaped the woman’s lips.

“He won’t bother you again, baby.” Her sultry like voice filled your senses and your chest collapsed with ease once again. Her fingers went to journey through your loose locks gently as the vigilant but warm woman relaxed you now physically too.

“I’ll go make you a hot chocolate, and Tashi will run you a warm bath. We’re gonna make you feel better, love.” Art left you with tender adoration as he promised to you, and reached to leave a delicate stroke on your thigh with a fond smile before he stood from the bed. Tashi nodded him off as she held you there for a moment more, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple.

[murdrdocs]

homoeroticism; ghostface duo; stalking; cnc implications; DARK CONTENT MDNI 18+ w/ PATRICK ZWEIG AND ART DONALDSON

ghostface artpatrick who stalk you. sneaking into your apartment, going through your things, watching you through the window.

they have a plan, it’s agreed upon. but they go behind each others backs without even knowing it.

patrick sneaks into your house, stands in the corners, completely desperate for just a glimpse. he needs to hear you scream once. he needs to know what you look like when you're fearing for your life, begging for him to let you live.

so he watches. he watches you get off. he watches your daily routines. he stands and stares until he finally finds the perfect window to rope you into an unwilling game of cat and mouse, scaring you until your screams sends blood flowing straight to his cock.

and then art takes it further. art needs to feel you. he needs to feel your blood thrumming through your skin under his fingers. he needs to feel your wines and moans as they rake through your body, vibrating your chest during their journey up to your pretty lips. and initially, he’s thinking about putting a mark on you, about going through with the plan he and patrick have back peddelled. but then he sees the way you look up close and he can’t resist.

he’s just lucky that you give in. lucky that you obediently bend over and let art slip his gloved hand between your legs. lucky that he didn’t have to force you to do all of this. lucky that you want it.

and when patrick comes back for more, it’s like he can tell art was here. he could feel how his best friend has already defiled you. but instead of tainting you, art has made you purer. it’s like art has blessed you, or maybe baptized you. or maybe, patrick just really fucking wants his best friend as bad as he wants you and for the time being, this is how he’ll get what he wants. by sharing you with art, by putting his cock where art has put his own.

[artssslut2]

Unexpected: Part Three

Art Donaldson x Pregnant!Reader

Summary: Art is by your side through morning sickness.

Part Two

Now that the year had ended you were moved out of the dorms and into Arts family’s beach house in California. You had been very upset leaving your dorm, you blamed it on hormones, because you hated your dorm. Arts mom had accidentally revealed the news to your parents because she thought you had already told them. They were furious, you knew they would come around but they weren’t even speaking to you for the time being. Art and his mother felt terrible. Art also felt very angry for you because of how your parents were acting

“You don’t understand” you told him

“Yes I do. I’m a dad now too and when my kid makes a mistake I will never shut them out or act so immature.” He argued, you smiled thinking about how he will be such a good dad.

You and Art slept in different rooms, Art was confused why but went along with it. You had so much going on you didn’t know if you could also deal with the repressed feelings you had for your best friend. You always had a feeling that Art loved you, everyone did. But still you were scared that if you told him you loved him he would feel like he has to say it back because of the baby.

Lately you had been feeling incredibly sick, every part of your body ached and you were nauseous almost all the time. You looked and felt disgusting, but art was by your side holding your hair back for you everyday. He felt helpless, he always knew how to help you but not this time.

It was evening when art came home from the grocery store. You were in bed where you had been most of the day, art knew where to find you.

“Hey, I got you some stuff.” Art peaked his head into your room “it might make you feel better” he came in quietly like he was a little mouse. He sat on the foot of your bed and you sat up slowly trying not to trigger vomit. Art sat the bag on the bed, and pulled out some items he got.

“Whats all this Art?” You asked curiously as you looked at crackers, teas, pretzels, popsicles, Gatorade and what looked like over the counter medicine.

“I did some research on morning sickness and stuff, I also talked to my mom. Everyone said This stuff might help ease it a little bit.” He told you with sympathetic eyes, you smiled sweetly at the gesture.

“You did all that?” You asked,

“Yeah I mean it’s the least I could do” he said shyly trying not to blush

“You’re the best Art, thank you.” You grabbed his hand and interlocked you fingers. He looked at you and almost confessed his feelings in that moment but he stopped himself. You felt it too though, your heart fluttered and there was a silence,

“You got a hairbrush in there too?” You said changing the subject, art let go and stood up

“Let me grab one for you.” He went into the attached bathroom and opened a drawer, you didn’t care if he went through your things you both already knew everything about each other and have seen every part of each other. Art found one and walked back to your bed you turned the tv on.

“Here let me help you” he said nudging your shoulder so you would scoot up so he could come behind you. Art crawled behind you, you rested back on his chest as he started to brush your hair for you. He was so gentle and careful not to hurt you. Art was putting your hair into a braid, something you taught him to do years ago. You could feel yourself grow tired, the soft sounds from the tv and the sensation of Art doing your hair was making you drift off to sleep. Art could tell, he started to pull away and move but you grabbed his arm

“Stay… Please.” You mumbled half asleep. Art waited a second and then nodded his head and fell back behind you. You melted into your best friend as he wrapped his arms around you. You matched your breathing with his, he petted your hair and scratched you back just like you liked. Peace filled your body feeling his touch.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but it was enough for Art to think you were asleep,

“I’m so in love with you y/n.” He whispered before continuing his slow breathing.

You wanted to say it back to him but he thought you were asleep. You didn’t want him to be embarrassed. What would it mean for you two if you said it back? You would tell him soon but for now you were going to sleep peacefully in his arms.

[dacuslucy]

everyone knows disney movies love to 'girlify' and 'boyify' animals when they make animated movies. what would you say if i told you Challengers (2024) did the exact same thing.

take lady and the tramp for example.

here is an example of a 'boy' animal' anbd a 'girl' animal. note the shape of their faces and the hair and the scruff. perchance.

now. we all know pink is a girl colour and blue is a boy colour. this is the first piller of my argumanet.

take a look at art donaldson and patrick idk from Challengers (2024)

patrick. the brunette. the scruffier one. wearing .... BLUE! henceforth he is boy. now lets take a closer look at him.

That's rigfht. he looks exactly like remy from ratatouille, a movie my mother saw while i was unborn.

therefore patrick = boy (blue) rat

now moving on to art. softer. blonde. pink shirt. therewofre he is girl. now lets take a closer look at him

thats right. he looks exactly like undisclosed girl mouse.

therefore art = girl (pink) mouse

thank you for coming to my ted talk i have been amelie and youve been watching disney channel.