#I always just think of them in separate spaces

[goblin-jr]

And then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like i love you.

Pairing: JJ x Reader, Rafe x Reader

Synopsis: the pogues spend a day on the boat, when the kooks drop by in an unexpected visit

masterlist

A/N: This series takes place before season 1!, Rafe is a year older and Sarah and John B are not together (yet)

----

The sun hung lazily in the sky, its light spilling through the half-open windows of the Chateau. A familiar hum of conversation and laughter filled the room—nothing urgent, just the easy chatter of friends who had been through it all together. The Pogues were scattered about, each doing their own thing, but as usual, everything seemed to orbit around JJ’s chaotic energy. He was perched on the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees, cracking jokes with Pope, while Kie sprawled across the floor, flicking through an old magazine she’d probably never seen before.

Y/N sat in the armchair by the window, tucked away in the corner of the room, her knees drawn up to her chest. The sunlight slanted across her face, but it didn’t quite warm her. She let the conversation wash over her, her attention flickering between the others, but never quite landing. 

Her fingers drummed lightly against the armrest, a subtle rhythm to match the hum of the house. She’d always felt a little like this—tuned in but separate. A quiet force, content to observe, to hold the space between the noise. She loved them all in ways that went beyond words, but today, there was something off-kilter, something unsaid that sat heavily on her chest. Maybe it was the way JJ kept glancing at Kie—something different in his eyes when he looked at her. 

Kie had only been with the group for a few months, but it already felt like she’d always been here. There was a lightness about her, an ease in the way she moved through the world, something Y/N had always admired. But right now, as Kie laughed with Pope—her voice loud and carefree—Y/N couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she didn’t fit as neatly into the circle anymore. 

JJ’s laugh rang out, deep and full of life, and for a moment, Y/N forgot herself. She smiled, letting the sound sink in. It was that laugh—wild and free—that had been the soundtrack to her childhood. But then Kie said something, teasing him about the way he worked on the boat. Y/N could see the way JJ’s face softened, the way his eyes lingered on Kie a little longer than necessary. He didn’t have to say anything; she could feel it in the air, that subtle shift. 

“JJ, you gonna fix that boat or just stare at Kie all day?” Pope teased, grinning as he shot a glance toward the two of them. 

JJ shot back a playful middle finger, but his smile was softer now, gentler in a way Y/N wasn’t used to seeing. 

It’s nothing, Y/N told herself, staring out at the water, trying to chase the gnawing ache away. They’re just friends. Just like you. But she couldn’t escape the tightness in her throat. 

“Y/N, you coming with us to the boat?” JJ’s voice cut through the space, warm and casual. 

She turned, forcing a smile as their eyes met. There it was again—the same easy grin he always gave her. She should have been used to it by now, but today, it felt like a door she couldn’t quite open. 

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute,” she said, the words slipping out before she could think. She wanted to stay here, in the quiet, where she could nurse the ache that wasn’t quite a wound but felt like one all the same. But it wasn’t fair to stay away. Not with everything they’d been through. 

JJ paused for a second, studying her. His brow furrowed just a little, like he noticed something wasn’t right, but then he shrugged it off and stood. “Alright. See you out there.” 

As he turned to walk toward the door, Y/N’s gaze lingered on him—on the way his shoulders shifted under his old T-shirt, the way his hair fell messily over his forehead. He looked like a kid, like the JJ she’d always known. Except he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at Kie again, talking animatedly, the space between them comfortable and familiar. It was an ease that made Y/N feel like she was standing just outside of it, watching them from a distance. 

What’s wrong with me?

Y/N let her gaze drop, blinking rapidly as her chest tightened. She knew it wasn’t fair. She couldn’t expect JJ to feel the same way, not when Kie was right there, effortlessly slipping into their world. 

She reached for her water bottle, her hands suddenly unsteady. Maybe it would be easier to just ignore it all. Pretend like nothing had changed. But it was hard to ignore the way JJ’s gaze lingered on Kie, and how it felt like Y/N was the one left in the background, hoping to be noticed, hoping to be more than just a friend. 

---

The boat drifted lazily along the water, the sun casting golden streaks across the horizon. The Pogues were all there—comfortable, at ease, as they always were when they had the ocean to themselves. JJ steered the boat with one hand, the other resting lazily on the edge, while Pope and Kie argued over something trivial in the back. Kie’s laugh rang out, carefree, as Pope pretended to be offended.

Y/N sat at the bow, her legs dangling over the side, watching the water ripple beneath them. The peacefulness of the moment made it easy to forget the tension she’d been carrying lately, but every time she glanced at JJ, her heart would tighten. He looked so at ease—so himself—but she couldn’t help but feel like there was a wall between them, even if he didn’t notice it.

“Should we head to the cove?” John B’s voice broke through her thoughts, his eyes scanning the horizon. He stood at the back, hands on the wheel as he looked between Kie and Pope. 

Kie gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up. “Definitely! I need a swim after all this boat gossip.”

“You’re always gossiping,” Pope teased, shaking his head, but his smile betrayed him.

Y/N smiled softly at the way they bantered. The Pogues were good at making everything feel normal, even when it was anything but. 

Then, just as they were beginning to shift course, a loud roar of an engine cut through the peace of the afternoon. Y/N squinted against the sun, eyes narrowing as a sleek red boat appeared on the horizon, blaring music that made her ears ring even from this far off.

“Of course,” JJ muttered under his breath, his tone already dripping with annoyance.

John B glanced over, brow furrowed. “Kooks.”

Y/N tensed. She recognized that boat instantly—too many of them, too familiar. Rafe was at the helm, leaning back with that smug expression he always wore, flanked by some of the other Kooks she had hoped to avoid today.

Kie laughed, a look of disgust on her face. “Maybe they’re here to join the party.”

The Kooks steered their boat closer, stopping right next to the little pogue dinghy, the music thumping louder now. A few of the guys waved at them, too many of them for Y/N to even count, and there was Rafe, standing at the front, arms folded, his eyes scanning the group. He briefly caught Kie’s eye before his gaze moved to JJ. 

Y/N felt the air shift. The familiar tension between the Kooks and Pogues was back in full force. 

“You guys really cruising around out here, huh?” Rafe called out, his voice loud enough to make Y/N flinch. There was a mocking edge to his tone, as if he’d intentionally come just to throw his presence in their faces.

“Is that what you call it?” JJ shot back, his voice flat, but his body rigid. “Can’t say we’re impressed.”

John B exchanged a glance with JJ, clearly not thrilled by the Kooks’ appearance. Pope crossed his arms and shook his head, clearly irritated but trying to keep cool.

“Maybe you guys just need a little fun,” one of the Kooks from the back shouted. He was a lanky guy with messy blonde hair, grinning like an idiot as he leaned over the edge of the boat. “Lighten up, Pogues. You all look like you could use a drink.”

Y/N could feel the frustration building in her chest, but it wasn’t the Kooks themselves that pissed her off. It was the way they acted—like they were above everyone, as if the water was theirs to pollute and ruin.

Before anyone could say anything else, the guy grabbed a couple of beer cans and tossed them toward their boat, the cans hitting the water with a sharp plunk. JJ’s eyes flashed with anger. 

“Are you kidding me?” he shouted, standing up from the wheel. “Pick that up!”

The Kook laughed. “What’s the matter, you don’t like a little fun?” He tossed another can, but this time it hit a bit too close to Y/N. 

Y/N barely had time to react before someone from the Kook boat reached over between the gap and shoved her—hard.

She stumbled backward, trying to catch herself, but her foot caught on the edge of the boat, sending her crashing into the side with a sickening thud. The wind rushed from her lungs, and for a moment, the world blurred around her.

“Y/N!” JJ’s voice cut through the daze, and she blinked rapidly, trying to push the pain out of her head. She could feel the rough edge of the boat against her back, but JJ was there, pulling her upright, his hands steady but shaking.

“You okay?” JJ’s voice was full of concern, his eyes scanning her face as if trying to assess the damage. 

“I’m fine,” Y/N managed to say, her head still spinning, though the world was beginning to come into focus. “Just a little banged up.”

But JJ wasn’t listening to her. He was already glaring at the Kooks, his jaw tight with anger. 

“You don’t touch her,” he growled, stalking toward the Kook who’d shoved her.

“Whoa, calm down, man,” the Kook said, laughing like this was all a joke. But the humor in his eyes was gone, replaced with nervousness. 

Rafe stepped forward, putting a hand on the Kook’s shoulder to steady him. There was something about Rafe’s demeanor that made Y/N pause. His usual cocky arrogance was replaced by a momentary flicker of something—regret? Maybe guilt? But it was gone in an instant, replaced by his usual indifference.

“Enough,” Rafe said, his voice calm but commanding. “We’re not here to fight. Just... let it go, alright?”

JJ was still seething, but he backed off, eyes never leaving the Kooks as they started their engine and revved it up. The boat began to pull away, leaving the Pogues in their wake, the sound of the engine roaring into the distance. 

John B looked at JJ and Y/N with a raised brow. “Everything okay?”

Y/N nodded, pushing herself up slowly. “I’m good. Just a little shaken up.”

Pope gave her a worried look but said nothing. Kie, on the other hand, was already clapping her hands together, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, that was fun.”

But it wasn’t fun. None of it had been. Y/N’s head throbbed, the spot where she’d hit the boat feeling like it might bruise. More than the pain, though, it was the feeling of being caught between worlds—the world of the Pogues she belonged to, and the world of the Kooks she could never be part of. The sting of it settled deep in her chest, just like the Kooks' laughter had.

As the boat drifted, the light-hearted banter of the group didn’t quite reach her. She just sat quietly, her gaze fixed on the horizon, feeling the space between herself and everyone else grow wider.

---

By the time the Pogues returned to the Chateau, the sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky streaked with fiery oranges and purples. The boat was parked, and the group had made their way up the hill toward the house, their laughter and chatter from earlier fading into the quiet of the evening.

The stress from the altercation still hung heavy in the air, but for now, they were back in their element. The familiar smell of wood smoke filled the air as John B and JJ started gathering firewood for a campfire. Kie, Pope, and Y/N sat on the porch, watching the boys work as the last light of day slowly gave way to the cool night air.

“Man, I can’t believe those Kooks,” Pope muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Always gotta start something.”

Kie sighed, clearly trying to push past the tension. “At least it didn’t escalate any further. We should just let it go.”

“I don’t know,” Y/N said softly, her voice quieter than usual. She had been a little off since the Kook run-in, her thoughts still a tangled mess. “They’re not just gonna let it go. They never do.”

John B overheard as he carried a pile of firewood over to the fire pit. He shot her a look of understanding. “Yeah, but we don’t have to give them what they want. That’s the trick.”

“You’re right,” Kie agreed, pulling her legs up onto the chair as she hugged her knees. “We don’t have to let them get under our skin.”

Y/N wasn’t sure she agreed. Something in her felt off, unsettled. After everything, the Kooks had left with their laughter and their mockery, and yet the real sting came later, when they were back home, surrounded by the familiar comforts of the Chateau.

A few moments later, the crackling of firewood and the sound of shifting rocks interrupted her thoughts. The fire was going strong now, the orange glow casting long shadows across the group. The Pogues settled in around the campfire, with Kie and JJ sitting together on one side, Pope and John B across from them. Y/N sat on the edge, close enough to feel part of the group but far enough to replay the events of the afternoon in her head.

Y/N wasn’t sure how it had happened, how she’d ended up slipping and hitting her head during the scuffle. One minute she’d been trying to get away from a Kook who’d pushed her too hard, the next, she’d found herself on the deck, the world spinning. Her head throbbed, and her vision blurred before she managed to sit up again, the edge of the boat’s railing digging into her back.

“Y/N!” JJ had shouted, his voice laced with panic as he rushed to her side, his expression clouded with worry. “Hey, are you alright? Shit, you okay?”

She’d tried to wave it off, but the dizziness only made it worse. “I’m fine, JJ,” she had muttered, though she wasn’t sure if she was convincing anyone, herself included.

JJ hadn’t let up. His hand had been on her shoulder, steady and warm, and when he’d helped her to her feet, he hadn’t let go until he was sure she was steady.

“I’ve got you,” he had said, his voice softer than usual, the concern in his eyes unmistakable. “Let me help.”

At the time, she hadn’t thought much of it—JJ had always been the one to jump into action when someone needed it, whether it was Pope with his academic struggles or John B with his reckless plans. But now, as she sat by the fire, her head resting against the back of the chair and the warmth of the flames flickering in front of her, she realized just how much that moment had meant.

JJ was still in the thick of it, bantering with Kie, his usual grin in place. But every now and then, his gaze flickered over to Y/N, like he couldn’t help but make sure she was okay.

Kie’s voice cut through the air, teasing JJ about something ridiculous, and JJ was laughing so hard, his shoulders shaking. Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the sound—JJ’s laughter was always contagious, no matter what. But as she watched him, something stirred inside her. There was a reason she had fallen for him, a reason she had always been drawn to him. And it wasn’t just because he was funny or fearless or even loyal—it was moments like this.

The way he’d stayed by her side on the boat, his face scrunched in worry when she had hit her head. The way his eyes had softened, and the way he had cared for her without question, without hesitation. It was something she had never really been able to put into words, but now, sitting there, she could see it. JJ wasn’t just a guy who took risks or made jokes—he was a guy who cared. Deeply.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt a weight shift beside her. JJ had sat down next to her, his leg brushing hers in that easy, comfortable way they’d always had.

“You good?” he asked, his voice low but steady, eyes searching hers for any sign that she was still hurting.

Y/N nodded, the lingering headache still present but manageable. “Yeah. It’s just a bump. I’m fine.”

JJ’s hand hovered near her shoulder for a moment, like he wanted to reach out but was unsure. Then, without saying anything more, he simply leaned back and kicked his feet up onto the firepit edge.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, his voice softer now, as if he meant it. “Would’ve lost my mind if something happened to you.”

Y/N swallowed, her heart giving an unexpected jolt at his words. She knew he didn’t mean it in the way she wished, but it still made something inside her ache.

"Thanks," she whispered, her voice barely above the crackling of the flames.

A beat passed. Kie and the others were talking about something else now, their attention shifting away from the two of them. It was just JJ and Y/N for a moment, and that’s when she allowed herself to feel it—the pull toward him that had been there for years.

She wasn’t sure when it had happened. The moment she realized she was in love with him wasn’t something that could be pinpointed—it was like watching a sunset, slow and inevitable, until one day it just was.

JJ caught her gaze again, and this time, she didn’t look away. His grin was still there, but it was softer now, like he could read something in her eyes, something unspoken.

“You’re not like the others, Y/N,” he said, voice teasing but warm. “Always gotta keep an eye on you, make sure you’re okay.”

Y/N laughed, a bit of tension easing from her shoulders. “I’m used to you watching out for me,” she teased, nudging his shoulder lightly. “Someone’s gotta.”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling a little wider. “Guess that’s my job, huh?”

It was in these moments, these small gestures, where the depth of their friendship was made clear. The way he was always there, always protective, even when he didn’t need to be. And yet, there was always a distance, a barrier Y/N could never cross.

Kie’s laughter cut through the quiet between them, and JJ’s gaze shifted over to her. The same softness was there when he looked at her, and Y/N couldn’t help the quiet pang that lodged in her chest.

“You okay?” JJ’s voice pulled her back to the present, and she smiled, nodding.

“Yeah, just... tired,” she replied, her voice steady now, though her emotions were far from it.

“Alright, well, if you need anything, you know where I am,” he said, giving her a wink. “I’ll make sure you don’t pass out on me again.”

Y/N smiled, watching him go back to the group. But as she sat there, her hand resting over her chest, she realized that JJ had been there for her in a way no one else had. And even though the ache in her heart was still there, she knew one thing for sure: she would always be there for him, no matter what.

---

next up - rafe apologizing (but trust hes super nonchalant fr)

[yappielestappie]

Some lestappen thoughts in these trying times:

I think Max and Charles have a bond unlike anyone else in F1, even though they’re not that close of friends. I’d even go so far as to say they’re trauma bonded.

We all know Jos was downright horrible. It’s quite reasonable to assume that this was very hard on Max as a child, and that he felt alienated and alone (recall the quote of him saying it would’ve been nice to be able to play football with kids his age, sometimes). The only times he got to hang around with kids his age was on the race track. And who was always there? Always at the top? Always challenging him? Charles Leclerc.

Charles, meanwhile, had the opposite. He had a entire support system built around his racing career. He had both brothers and his godfather with him, and a fathers love to guide him through. In his teens, he lost both Jules and his father, and suddenly, the only consistent familiar part of racing that remainder from his childhood, would have been Max.

Meanwhile, while Charles was suffering this loss, Max was in Formula 1, in a top team, doing quite well, and had picked up a support system (albeit a likely limited one) in Daniel Riccardo. I think Charles was extremely jealous of Max when he also got to F1 in 2018. Their whole lives, they’d been opponents, and then Max beat him to F1 by 3 years & had everything Charles did not (a good seat, a father, an older F1 driver to guide him). I also think that’s why the Austria 2019 podium ended up being such a big conflict. It was a lot more than just a win to Charles. It was proving himself.

Now, they’ve both matured (Daniel helped Max and Seb helped Charles). They can look back on their karting days fondly, and they both recognize that the only real supportive part of their karting careers that still remains, is each other. All the hatred they had for one another has turned into support, and a kind of respect that very few drivers have for one another.

They have something special. It’s undeniable. There’s no other drivers on the grid that have history anything like them (Pierresteban could be discussed but that’s a whole mess). And now I think they’re old enough to realize they have something special.

Max genuinely cares about Charles. It’s obvious. Their racing is so much different to anyone else Max goes wheel to wheel with. Leclerc is the only driver I’ve ever seen him apologize to. The whole “Charlie I’ve got a space for you!” Thing is still blowing my mind. Max talks about Charles like he’s the only one Max actually wants to race, like Charles is the only person worthy of challenging him. He rates Charles over everyone else even when he fucks up “come on Charles man, too many mistakes” comes to mind.

And Charles is the same way right back, he just usually has a bit more shame. It’s worth noting that he speaks highly about a lot of other drivers, but Max always seems special. He compliments max out the wazoo sometimes. It’s clear that he sees Max as the very best - as the benchmark to beat. But more than that, he defends Max just like we do. Charles always supports Max’s moves on Lando, even when they’re clearly in the wrong. He supports Max’s aggressive racing, claims to LIKE it even, when Max is being constantly harassed by the fans and media.

There’s something between them. Some unspoken reason why they support each other like this and the only conclusion I can come to is that the memories they have of each other are inseparable from their memories of racing. They’ve been competing at the top since they were 6 years old. They know how to be rivals better than they know how to do anything else in the world.

I don’t know if they ever hang out outside of F1. I don’t know if we’ll ever see them interact again once Max retires. But I do know that they’ve shaped each other in a way that will impact them until the day they die. Every untainted memory from their childhoods is about each other. All the memories of loss and abuse are separate to their memories of each other. They are the only thing that remains.

The most fundamental part of racing for Max, is beating Charles. And the most fundamental part of racing for Charles, is beating Max. Everyone else on the grid is irrelevant- an obstacle. They are two halves of the same story and I think that’s more beautiful than any romance book I’ve ever read.

oh anon you are so absolutely right. listen for me, it's the fact that we can talk all day about lestappen and ship them or let our imaginations and minds go wild with w/e but fundamentally? at the end of the day? there is also substance to it - even any form of fandom aside, there are simply facts about them that make them such a beautiful dynamic. there is something so mesmerizing about the level on which they drive, perform, their talents and skills and the way they grew up with and around each other in a sense. the beautiful juxtapositions, the red strings of fate, the way their paths kept crossing and intertwining even before they raced each other again (suzuka being max' first proper f1 test drives and then jules etc.)... there is just something cosmic about them that (as stated in some previous post) almost boils down to THEM BOTH BEING LIBRAS which is still driving me insane. the balance. the way this just screams UNIVERSE just as partners in life, as twin flames, as two sides of the same coin, two weights on a scale... again, not even saying this is related to the fandom angle of romance. like you said it almost runs deeper than that. and i, personally, refuse to be normal about it the same way the two of them are never truly normal about each other.

[arts-bloody-rose]

Blood of A Rose - Part 4 (Art the Clown x Fem!Reader)

Masterlist

Summary - (Y/n) begins to notice Art suddenly growing more distant and she spirals into insecurity and concern. He reassures her and opens up about what has been occurring, but the events to follow will forever change the course of their lives together.

Notes - Y’all it’s here!! Definitely finished sooner than I thought, crazy what motivation does to someone lol. This is probably my favorite of all of the works I’ve done for Art and I’m so excited to bring you all on this journey! Without further ado, enjoy the show.

Word Count - 7,287

Warning(s): Blood/gore, violence, insecurity, smut, self-harm, suicide/sacrifice (don’t worry)

Song Inspiration -

ZAND - I Spit On Your Grave

Lewis Blisset - Killing Butterflies

(Y/n) entered the work room with a heavy sigh, tearing the fresh newspaper before tossing it into the trash. Art waved at her half-heartedly from where he worked at his bench, not bothering to face her as he focused. 

She set down a small cardboard box on her stool and looked around for a moment. 

“Can I use that knife for a moment?” She asked the clown casually. Art gave her a suspicious side-eye before reluctantly passing her a steak knife. “Thank you.” 

She cut at the tape, opening her new shipment of paint before handing the knife back to him and unpacking the box. 

“Anything crazy happen when I was gone?” She asked, but then quickly answered for him before he could even comprehend the question. “No? Good.” 

Art stared at her in disbelief, expressing a blatant what the fuck as he squinted. He watched as (Y/n) tossed away the box and sighed again as she hung her camera around her neck, his signal to get up. 

The clown put his hands on his hips and gave her a stern look. Her gaze softened and she gave him a gentle smile. 

“I’m okay, I’m just in a bit of a mood.” She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed his cheek, Art simply poking the tip of her nose with an approving nod before grabbing his bag. 

“Man or woman tonight?” (Y/n) questioned as she played with the ruffled fabric at the bottom of his sleeve, eyes focused on the sidewalk they followed. “Or both?” She added and Art pointed at her with a mischievous grin, agreeing. “We should find a couple, but that might be harder to find. Could always just get a man and woman separately and -“ 

Art slapped his free hand over her mouth and they froze, (Y/n) looking up at him expectedly. 

Voices were heard speaking casually in the distance and she followed his gaze, coincidentally spotting a couple walking out of a restaurant. Art grinned mischievously and removed his hand from her mouth, the two of them sharing an eager expression, then simultaneously looking back at the couple before stalking forward. 

Art disappeared into an alleyway while (Y/n) continued to follow the couple from behind them. 

“Excuse me?” She innocently caught their attention. They turned to see her, the man more skeptical while the woman was more concerned. “My friend just collapsed, I think she blacked out, but I’m not sure and I don’t know what to do.” (Y/n) panicked, fidgeting with her hands. 

“Sure thing hun, where is she?” The woman politely pressed further. 

“She’s just over here.” (Y/n) motioned to the alleyway not far from them. The woman stepped forward to follow her, the man hesitating before shaking his head and following reluctantly. 

As they turned into the alleyway, (Y/n) slowed to stand behind them as they wandered further, looking into the seemingly empty space. The woman turned to question (Y/n) when a loud thud sounded as a plank rammed against her head, sending her into the brick wall. 

The man shouted as he watched her fall, his gaze then trailing to trace the figure of the monochromatic clown that stood menacingly in front of him. The man gasped and quickly spun around to leave, only to come face to face with (Y/n) who casually leaned against the wall. She raised her hand, wiggling her fingers at him in a wave before ramming his skull into the wall, his body collapsing next to his partner. 

Art laughed wildly with glee in her participation, dropping the board and clapping his hands. He turned to his bag as (Y/n) lifted her camera, adjusting it then snapping a couple of photos as the couple groaned in pain together. 

When Art stood straight once more, she turned her back to them and leaned against the wall again, watching the street while she patiently waited. 

After long, Art tapped her on the shoulder and presented the now mangled pair, (Y/n) tilting her head in thought. After minor deliberation, Art propped them up against the wall to sit next to each other, leaning against the other with the woman’s head on the man’s shoulder. 

(Y/n) crouched, catching different angles and lighting while Art watched her work, taking in her form and focus with admiration. He caught the sound of new voices, head snapping as his smile dropped ever so slightly before stepping towards the opening of the alleyway. 

He reached the entrance, peeking his head out and looking both ways. He caught sight of a trio of teenagers, two brunettes and a blonde as they giggled. His eyes squinted when the shorter brunette turned her face more into his view, rage subtly beginning to simmer as his eyes glimmered in recognition. 

“What’s the matter?” (Y/n) asked when she stepped beside him, following his line of sight to see the same three girls. “You want them too?” She furrowed her brow when he didn’t acknowledge her. “Art?” 

He finally broke away from them and looked over at her, waving his hand off in dismissal. 

“Let’s get going, then.” She watched as he cast the disappearing girls one last look before turning to grab his bag, then took her hand as he came up to her and began their walk back home. (Y/n) looked back at the group one last time with suspicion.

As the two of them laid in their bed, (Y/n) couldn’t help but remember Art’s strange behavior earlier. She tried to focus on his steady breathing and the beat of his heart, his fingers that mindlessly caressed her shoulder. But it couldn’t distract her enough to brush it off. 

She felt Art tap her shoulder, feeling the unsteady rhythm of her heart that contrasted his own. (Y/n) looked up at him and he tilted his head at her in a silent question. 

She took a deep breath and sighed. “What was that earlier? With those girls?” 

Art’s lips twitched, then he waved his hand as if to say it was nothing. 

“You’ve never done that before.” (Y/n) pressed. Art frowned and a firm finger raised, warning her to not worry. She laid her head back down on his chest in defeat and he rubbed her shoulder, soothing her to help her fall asleep. 

(Y/n) stood in darkness. A void. Surrounded by nothing. She turned to see the silhouette of what seemed to be the shorter brunette from the trio, a nauseous feeling settling in (Y/n)’s stomach as tears welled up in her eyes. 

As she felt one trickle down her cheek, a hand cradled her chin and turned her head to face them. She was met with the beautiful green eyes of her infamous clown, falling into a trance as her legs began to lose feeling, jellifying under his piercing gaze. 

But when she reached up to his face, he disappeared. 

Her eyes fluttered open, the spot next to her on the bed cold and empty. Her eyes looked towards the boarded window, seeing no light shining through. She reached for her phone on the nightstand, checking the time. 

3:47.

(Y/n) stood with a sigh and rubbed at her tired eyes, sluggishly walking towards the door and leaving the room in search of Art. She entered the work room, expecting to find him sitting at his bench. But there was no sign of him. 

She checked the other rooms they rarely used, thinking he might’ve been in a more sporadic mood. But again, no sign. 

She meandered back over to her door when the entrance of the building opened and in walked the man in question, though without his bag and without more blood than she had fallen asleep to. 

He paused in the doorway, staring at her with his usual grin and she felt a pang in her chest, looking him up and down before disappearing back into her room without further acknowledgement.

Art cocked his head back in confusion, smile faltering at her behavior. He thought about following her, comforting her or cheering her up in some way. But he decided against it and made his way to his bench. 

She felt another pang in her chest when she heard him begin to hammer away, hoping that he would join her. 

Her mind raced, jumping to conclusion after conclusion.

Something wasn’t right, that much was evident. It didn’t start until he saw the group of girls. He wasn’t bothered, no. She knew him well enough to know that. 

No, what she saw in his eyes was determination. Sadistic, violent determination that worried her more than it should have. So much so that an uneasy feeling began to settle in her stomach. A feeling she hadn’t felt during the nearly full year they had been together. 

Uncertainty. 

During her turmoil, she fell back asleep, exhausted from the events of the night and her unfiltered thoughts. 

When she awoke the next day, the sun was up as rays showed between the boards. (Y/n) stared up at the ceiling for a few moments, mind quiet as she slowly blinked. 

Eventually, she stood and changed into a different outfit, sighing as she adjusted her clothes and finished getting ready before walking out towards the work room. 

Her spirits lifted when she saw Art’s back to her at his bench this time, toying with one of his creations. She shuffled behind him, wrapping her arms around his torso and feeling him relax beneath her. One of his hands reached down to pat her forearm, settling on top of it as he felt her cheek press against his back. 

“Missed you last night.” (Y/n) mumbled against him and his finger caressed her wrist in acknowledgment. 

She finally let go and stepped to stand beside him, kissing his cheek then sitting on her stool.

“Sharpening?” (Y/n) asked as he ran one of his knives along a metal rod and nodded. “Getting ready for something special, then?” She continued and yawned. 

Art nodded again, slower as he was deep in thought. He tossed the knife back into his bag sat beside him and stood, (Y/n)’s eyes following him curiously as he twisted the opening into a handle and slung it over his shoulder. 

“We’re going out during the day?” 

Art shook his head, slicing his hand across the air to tell her no. He pointed at her and made the motion again and her eyebrows knit together in confusion. 

“You don’t want me to go…?” 

Art’s eyes widened at the evident pain in her voice, waving his hand in front of him and shaking his head more vigorously in a panic to console her. 

“Then why shouldn’t I go?” She stood and her voice raised a little, the rate of her heart beginning to pick up. 

Art motioned for her to calm down and take a deep breath, pointing between the two of them and giving her an ok symbol. He rested his free hand on her shoulder and bent down to kiss her nose, walking backwards towards the exit and giving her a thumbs up for reassurance. 

As (Y/n) heard the door close, she began to hyperventilate as her mind raced with thoughts she never imagined were possible being with Art. 

Why didn’t he want her with him? Was there someone else? Was he growing tired of her?

The image of the girl from her dream, manifesting from the trio they saw that night entered her mind. 

Tears pricked at her eyes and she breathed heavily, pacing the room that now felt colder than usual and empty. A choked sob slipped past her lips and she covered her mouth. 

“No…” (Y/n) denied the possibility of him cheating on her. How could someone so simple take his attention away from her? From the relationship they had built together for so long? 

Unless the girl wasn’t as simple as she thought.

“No, no, no -“ She repeated to herself in desperation, and fell to her knees, arms wrapping around herself in false comfort. 

She cried, the dam she so proudly held finally breaking as everything came crashing down onto her in that moment. She crawled across the floor to lean back against the wall, head tilted back as she continued, looking up at the ceiling helplessly. 

After some time, her throat grew raw and her cries died down to sniffling and shaky breaths. She finally looked down from the ceiling to the concrete floor, catching a glimmer of something out of the corner of her eyes. 

She turned her head to see a simple kitchen knife laying a few feet away, taunting her as the blade shined beneath the single bulb hanging from the center of the dull room. 

(Y/n) stared at it for a few moments, a defeated sob working its way out of her throat as she slowly reached for it. She simply looked at it as she held it in her lap, contemplating. 

Her breathing grew labored, trembling as she slowly rolled up the sleeve of her left arm. The blade was lifted to the skin, just barely grazing the surface when she heard the front door open and she yanked it away, standing up in a rush. 

Her heart raced when she heard familiar footsteps grow closer, closer until the clown entered, bag nowhere to be seen. He looked around for a moment, eyes squinted in observation before he spotted her.

His grin immediately dropped at the sight before him. Her sleeve was up, blade in her other hand and shaking in her grasp. What disturbed him more than the blade was the raw emotion in her eyes. Emotions he would typically drink in with pleasure. 

Panic, fear. Pain. 

(Y/n) froze, unsure of what was going through his head, the sight of his frown unsettling in that moment. She took a step forward, face set in determination. 

“Who is she?” She choked out. No response. “Who is she!” (Y/n) shouted, breaking. 

Art slowly shook his head, forgetting about his theatrics with her state and stepping closer to her. 

“Who is she to be more deserving of your attention?” Tears began to flow down her cheeks once more. “What does she offer that I don’t?” Her voice cracked. 

Art simply stood, unmoving as he took in her words. 

“Answer me!” She screamed desperately.

He watched as (Y/n) looked down in defeat, then at her arm, then slowly back up at him. And Art noticed the familiar look of determination. The one he himself was so well acquainted with. 

Before he could understand what was happening, she quickly ran the blade across her inner forearm, effectively slicing the skin as red began to flow down in gentle streams and drip onto the floor. 

Art lurched forward and snatched the blade from her hand, tossing it to the side as it clattered onto the floor. He gritted his teeth at her, frustrated as she stared at him with tear-stained cheeks. He looked down at the wound she inflicted, observing the damage. 

It wasn’t deep enough to cause fatal harm, but it was a decent gash that would take some time to heal. He pressed the sleeve of his own forearm against it, soaking the blood and adding pressure to prevent further bleeding. 

He frowned as he looked back at her after hearing a sob, shaking his head at her in disappointment.    

“Please don’t leave me…” His brow furrowed. “I’ll do anything.” She whispered desperately and his expression softened in realization. “Please…” She watched as his gaze pierced through her and felt a strange pressure in her head, followed by an odd sense of comfort and adoration. 

Art suddenly leaned in and their lips met in sweet, demented unison. He tasted the salt of her tears, as did she as pressure was added to their kiss and she was flooded with overwhelming emotion. 

Her uninjured arm desperately reached up around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer as she stood on her toes. His own free arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her into him, then he suddenly lifted her up bridally. 

(Y/n) gripped onto him as if her life depended on it, burying her face in his neck as he brought them to her room and placed her on the bed, hovering over her. 

Their lips met once more and they desperately clawed at each other, eager to prove that the other was real. Art moved down to her neck, biting and sucking harshly as she jumped and breathed heavily for an alternate reason. 

His hands bruisingly gripped her waist as he ground himself into her, taking in her harmonious hums of pleasure. His hands slipped beneath her shirt, raising it to reveal the skin beneath until it was pulled over her head, mindful of her cut that he continued to press dry every now and then. 

His teeth dragged down her neck, in between her breasts, gloved hands desperately kneading them through her bra and growing frustrated with the fabric. He reached under her and toyed with the clip, eventually unclamping it and tugging it off before he returned to her breasts to continue his mannerisms. 

She sighed as his mouth aggressively latched on to one of her nipples, toying with it and rubbing himself on her thigh that he straddled. (Y/n) yelped when he bit down particularly hard, her thigh meeting his erect member and his head leaned back, eyes closed and mouth open at the unexpected pressure. 

Art licked down her stomach, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake and tugged off her pants and underwear impatiently, breathing hotly against her core. He grit his teeth in anticipation, looking up at her as she gazed at him with hooded eyes, hand reaching down to grasp at his shoulder. 

He then leaned in and began to ravage her pussy, dragging out a moan from her as her head dug into the pillow beneath her. His movements were erratic and desperate, fingers digging into her thighs and kneading them as he rocked his hips into the mattress. 

Her hips lifted to meet his tongue, practically grinding into his mouth and his chest rumbled in approval, growling noiselessly as he let her use him for herself. 

As her pitch and volume heightened, he focused on bringing her to the brink of her orgasm, hands roaming up and down her figure. 

Just as she neared the edge, he pulled away and she sighed, looking down at him with a pleading expression. Art looked up at her and crawled his way up the length of her body with an animalistic bearing, biting at her bottom lip and delving in to taste her lips once more. 

(Y/n) reached around to undo his zipper, pulling it down and sliding the fabric of his suit off of his shoulders as he took over to bring it down the rest of the way until his erection was freed. 

Their teeth clashed as he rubbed his tip against her center, using his hand to rub the moisture over the rest of his heavy cock. She whined as she felt him poke at her, sighing when his hips rolled and his member slipped past her folds and buried itself into her. 

Art wasted no time in waiting, setting a steady rhythm as his mouth worked its way down her neck again, settling on sucking aggressively at the delicate skin. One of his arms reached beneath her, hooking his hand on her shoulder to pull her into him as he thrusted into her. His other pressed against her forearm to block the wound, taking her mind away from the aching pain as his speed increased. 

She cried out in pure bliss, hand resting on the back of his neck and holding him against her as her thighs pulled back. He angled himself upwards, finding the area she loved so sweetly as she nearly screamed into his ear. 

He licked up and down her neck through his grin, pounding into her with newfound aggression as she clung onto him. Her eyes rolled back, closing as her mind grew foggy with intense pleasure. 

With a few more thrusts, she was thrown over the edge and arched her back, pressing herself into him as she rode out her high. Art watched her with lust clouded eyes, thrusts growing sloppy as he chased his own release. She felt him pulse within her and moaned at the sensation, feeling him fill her more than before and looked down at where they met. 

Art huffed silently and pulled out, collapsing next to her with a lazy smile. He looked down at her arm and frowned, giving her a for shame motion with his fingers. (Y/n) met his patronizing gaze with doe eyes, wide and filled with unanswered questions. 

“What are you hiding from me?” She whispered, dreading the answer. 

Art held up a finger, as if to say first. He pointed between the two of them, then waved a careless hand out into the room to show nothing else in the world mattered to him but themselves. 

“Then what is happening? What is so special about that girl?” (Y/n) sat up, invested in what was going on and he followed her up. 

Art pointed to himself, then to the window to represent the girl, then ran a finger across his neck and made an after motion. 

“Why not just kill her and be done with it since you’re so determined?” 

Art shook his head then grinned mischievously. He balled his hands into fists, putting one over the other and slowly twisting. 

“You want to torture her?” Art nodded. “You can’t just do that right before you kill her like everyone else?” Art shook his head again.

He pointed between the window - the girl - and himself, slicing at the air in front of him with his arms then folding them in front of himself like a child throwing a temper. He then pointed back at the window, then himself, then slid a finger across his neck again. 

(Y/n) chuckled incredulously. “She wants to kill you? So you’re basically enemies.” 

Art nodded excitedly and pointed at her. 

“That’s even more reason to just kill her and get it over with, that doesn’t make sense.” 

(Y/n) stood and began to re-dress as Art watched with a thoughtful expression. When she turned to face him again he slid a finger across his neck for a third time, pointing firmly at the ground to say today.

“And I’m going with you, yeah?” She replied as a statement more than a question. Art began to shake his head and she crossed her arms, holding back a wince as she forgot about the cut. “I’m going with you.” She reaffirmed sternly and his shoulders slumped in defeat, looking off to the side with a glare. 

Art looked back at her with a sarcastic smile, giving her two ok symbols before his smile fell and he rolled his eyes. 

(Y/n) sighed and her expression softened, making her way over to him and guiding him to stand and turn around. 

“We’ll be okay.” She reassured him softly as she zipped up his suit, letting him turn to face her again. “We always are, in the end.” She kissed the tip of his nose and he nodded giddily, his smile returning genuinely. 

Later that evening, after the sun had just set, Art urged them to leave and get into the van - and still wouldn’t disclose where he got it from. She sat in the passenger seat and buckled, Art hopping into the driver’s seat and turning the ignition as the van revved itself to life. 

“When did you learn to drive?” (Y/n) asked jokingly. Art shrugged sheepishly, then eyed the spot she sat in with an odd expression. “What?” He shook his head and waved her off with uncertainty, shifting the van into drive and speeding off to who-knew-where. 

(Y/n) fidgeted with her camera when they pulled into a nicer neighborhood, rain pattering against the windshield as it stormed. He parked in front of a house at the end of a roundabout, pointing to it with an eager smile. 

“Is this her house?” 

Art shook his head, taping his index fingers together. 

“Her friend?” 

Art nodded and wiggled his eyebrows, (Y/n) sighing before the two of them got out and ran around to the back of the house. She gasped when he suddenly grabbed a brick and smashed in the sliding glass door, quickly collecting herself and following him inside to get out of the rain. 

“Not feeling really subtle tonight, I see.” (Y/n) spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb the silence settled in the house. 

Art meandered into the kitchen, waving a hand in dismissal of her comment as she trailed behind him. 

“It’s too bad, this house seems so nicely decorated.” She annotated as she looked around, facing Art when he grabbed a random glass from the counter and turned on the faucet to fill it with water. 

She chuckled at his antics, turning into a giggle when he faced away from the sink to chug the water as if he hadn’t had any in days. (Y/n) then looked across the countertop, stepping closer when she spotted a pair of scissors and a knife. 

She hummed in approval. “Found your favorite.” Art set down the glass once it was empty and spun to face her, spotting the two items and rubbing his hands together in excitement, making his way over to them. 

(Y/n) suddenly heard a floorboard creak and looked around, seeing one of the brunettes from the other night watching them in pure terror. She casually lifted her camera and snapped a picture, Art giving a test snip of the scissors before looking to see what caught her attention. 

He stood up straight with a playful smile when he spotted his victim, raising the tools in his hands and snipping the scissors tauntingly at her. The girl screamed and ran off, Art following after her immediately in the opposite direction. 

“Have fun!” (Y/n) called after him, chuckling to herself when she heard them thump up the stairs. 

She looked around a little while longer, appreciating the owner’s sense of interior design for a moment before sitting down on the living room couch. She turned on the TV, drowning out the sounds from upstairs as she flipped through the different channels. 

She perked up when she saw an image on the news of Art leaving what seemed to be a costume shop during the day, suit freshly bloodied with his signature bag slung over his shoulder. 

“Huh.” She reacted simply, then turned around when she heard footsteps from the stairs. Art walked out, coated in much more blood than before and she quirked an eyebrow. “Done already?” She asked with a hint of surprise.

Art shook his head, (Y/n) watching as he rummaged through the cabinets and cupboards in the kitchen. He pulled out a white gallon jug of a chemical she couldn’t quite read from where she sat, then a container of salt and giddily trotted back upstairs. 

She simply shrugged and turned back to the TV, disappointment painting her face when the news anchor moved on to a different story. 

Some time later, she jumped when she heard the shuffle of keys outside of the front door and switched off the TV, getting up to hide behind the wall of the staircase. 

“Allie!” A woman called as the door opened and closed, presumably the girl’s mother. “Have you been handing out candy? That bowl is still filled to the brim.” She continued. 

(Y/n) stood frozen, peeking around just enough to see the woman hanging up her purse on a rack by the door. She quickly hid back when the mother began to head up stairs, holding her breath when her steps suddenly stopped. 

She dared to peer around once more, seeing her looking in the other direction where the glass door had been broken in. “Oh my god.” She gasped worriedly. “Allie?” The woman began to back away towards the stairs once more. “Allie!” 

As her voice grew distant, (Y/n) finally let out a breath and rolled her eyes at the disturbance. She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, waiting expectedly. After a minute or so, a scream echoed through the house and she nodded her head. “There it is.” (Y/n) mused, then kicked herself off of the wall and made her way back to the couch to resume watching the television. 

When she heard Art descend the stairs a second time, he brought down the mother’s head with him and showed it to her with a proud flourish. (Y/n) walked up to him and examined it, noticing the top had been carved out into a makeshift bowl. 

She looked up at him and shook her head with a smile, walking over to the candy bowl sat by the front door with Art in tow. “Don’t expect me to help with the kids.” She warned him as she took a few handfuls of candy and transferred them into the head. Art simply grinned at her and nodded his head. 

Just then, the doorbell rang and (Y/n) shrugged, stepping around the clown to open the door for him. She hid behind the door, hearing the kids’ reactions of whoa’s and cool’s at Art’s ‘costume’ and candy bowl. “Ew,” She heard a little girl complain. “Why is mine so sticky?” (Y/n) rolled her eyes. 

“Don’t worry, it’s just fake blood, just put it in the bag.” The mom told the little girl and (Y/n) silently gave compliments to her for her patience. The kids giggled before they turned and left, granting a Happy Halloween before Art came back inside and closed the door. 

“You get your fix?” (Y/n) asked him as he tossed the head to the side, candy scattering over the floor. 

He shrugged in agreement, then clapped his hands together and pointed at the door for them to leave. 

“Exactly how many people are you getting involved with tonight for this?” (Y/n) broke the silence as he drove, the rain slowly coming to a stop. 

Art held up four fingers and she hummed. 

“That’s a surprisingly small number for you. But I guess dragging out each victim will do that.” Art nodded joyfully, the van slowing down as they reached a new neighborhood. 

They pulled in front of another house and parked, (Y/n) making a move to follow him when he told her to wait. She pouted and he reached out to her, gently patting her on the head before he got out of the van. She watched as he wandered up to the house until his figure disappeared inside. 

(Y/n) jumped when the van suddenly shifted into drive and began to move seemingly on its own, unable to move as she just sat frozen and baffled.

She then looked over to the driver’s side and saw what looked like a little girl with strikingly pale skin. She was dressed similarly to Art himself, makeup and all. Though it resembled more of a poorly put together cosplay of him. Her teeth were just as rotten, but her eyes glowed a bright yellow and red when she looked over at (Y/n) with an eerie smile and waved. 

Hesitantly, the woman returned her wave and spoke. “Are you a friend of Art’s?” She asked with a slight tremble in her voice. The little girl nodded, focusing back on the road as she cheerfully drove. “How long have you known each other?” (Y/n) asked, deciding to simply embrace what was happening and strike a conversation. 

The little girl held up a finger. 

“Days?” The girl shook her head. “Weeks? Months?” More shaking. “A year?” A nod. “You’ve been with him this whole time?” The girl smiled giddily, tilting her head side to side. “I’m assuming you know who I am then?” She nodded again and held up a half-heart with her fingers. 

Her face then twisted into focus, the van slowing to a stop. (Y/n) followed her line of sight, spotting a teenage boy hunched over and panting. 

The girl suddenly honked the horn and (Y/n) jumped in surprise. “Can he see us?” She asked as the boy whipped around to look at the van in both fear and confusion. 

The girl pointed at herself and shook her head, then pointed at (Y/n) and nodded. They watched as a group of kids ran past him and he stumbled, then turned to look back at them and slowly made his way towards the van. 

“Is he serious?” The little girl clapped excitedly and nodded. The boy stopped a few feet away from the van, the radio turning on and glitching through different stations as he stared at (Y/n) with his eyebrows furrowed. He looked away at the group of kids that passed him when the girl honked the horn again to recapture his attention. 

His eyes widened when the girl revealed herself to him, staring at him with a blank expression and wide eyes before he bolted. 

When he left, the girl giggled silently and looked over at (Y/n) for validation. The woman genuinely joined her, the boy’s reaction amusing. 

The van began to move again, following the boy as he ran into the house that Art had gone into and parked in front of it once more. 

The girl turned to face (Y/n), the latter doing the same and paused when the girl poked her knee playfully. Then twice again. Not understanding, the girl motioned to her own knees, then looked back up at the woman expectedly. 

Slowly, (Y/n) reached out and poked her knee just the same as the girl did and the girl giggled happily before reaching out and poking her knee again, now three times. (Y/n) followed. 

She went along with the girl’s little games in boredom as they waited, then screams sounded from the house and they looked at each other in understanding. 

Art suddenly emerged from the front door, dragging the boy from earlier by his arm, his body unmoving. The clown popped open the doors at the back of the van and slid the body inside, closing them as he walked around to the driver’s side door. 

(Y/n) gasped and froze when the girl crawled over into her lap, plopping herself happily to sit on top of her and kicked her legs. Art opened the door, face showing surprise at first, then laughed when he saw (Y/n)’s shocked expression. 

He hopped in the van and shut the door, throwing the van into drive and speeding off. 

After a few minutes of driving, Art pulled out a phone from beneath his legs on the seat and handed it over to the little girl. (Y/n) watched as she unlocked it and filtered through its contacts, clicking on Sienna and dialing. 

“Hello?” A female voice answered on the other end of the line. 

“Sienna, I’m in trouble!” The girl mimicked the boy’s voice and (Y/n)’s eyes widened, looking over at Art as he laughed while watching the road in front of them. 

“Oh, you think? Mommy told me what you did to her car, you little asshole. I mean, really?”

(Y/n) looked over at Art and pointed at him in question and he nodded proudly. “No, you have to come get me.” The little girl continued. 

“What do you mean? What’s wrong? Where are you?”

“I’m at the old carnival. Eric and Sean left me here. I’m all alone!” The girl’s head tilted eerily with a creak. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Please, I’m really scared! I don’t know what else to do, I can’t call Mommy!” 

“Okay, um - alright, calm down. I’ll come get you. Okay?”

“Hurry, my phone is dying!”

“Alright, just wait by the main entrance, okay?”

The girl hung up and the three of them looked amongst each other with a shared glint in their eyes. 

As they rolled into the carnival’s parking lot, they all hopped out and Art grabbed the boy’s body from the back, throwing him over his shoulder. (Y/n) turned to look for the little girl, but found nothing and looked back at Art with a confused expression. 

Art simply shrugged and began to make his way inside, (Y/n) following like a lost puppy. 

“So when were you going to tell me about the girl?” She questioned him as they entered the Terrifier, trusting that Art knew where he was going through the maze of demonic props and animatronics. 

He pointed between the two of them, then made a short this high motion to represent the little girl and waved his hand in dismissal. 

“Is she always there?” Art shook his head, then pointed at her and made a sleeping motion. “Only when I’m asleep?” He nodded. “Well, that’s sweet of her, at least, to give us our time.” 

Art shrugged as they entered a room that looked similar to their workroom at their own hideout, spotting a bench that was equally as messy with tools splayed out. His bag sat next to it, a small and broken in box TV in the center of the room not far from his bench. 

Art turned to face her and aggressively pointed to the floor, telling her to stay put with a stern expression. (Y/n)’s lips parted in confusion.

“Why?” She pleaded, stepping closer to him as he adjusted the body over his shoulder and cocked his head at her, letting her know not to argue. She let out a shaky breath. “Will you be long…?” (Y/n) asked as she picked at her nails, worry decorating her face. 

Art shrugged, not knowing how long it would take and she bit her lip. She took a deep breath and walked up to him, lifting herself on her toes to bring their lips together in a passionate kiss. 

“Just come back to me.” She whispered, meeting his intense gaze. 

Art gave her a firm nod and slowly turned to make his way out of the room. 

“Art?” 

The clown paused, head turning to acknowledge her. 

“Give them hell.” 

His mouth spread wide open with a large, toothy grin, then stalked out of the room to carry out whatever it was he had planned. 

As she sat alone in Art's alternate workroom, the sounds of chaos and violence echoed through the walls. Her heart raced with every scream, every cry for help that pierced the air. She had learned to trust Art, but something felt different about that night as each passing moment felt heavier than the last.

She tried to calm herself, reminding herself that Art was a master of his craft, a performer who knew how to handle himself in any situation. But the fear crept in, consuming her with every passing second. What if something went wrong? What if he needed her and she wasn’t there?

Impossible.

(Y/n) paced the small room, hands trembling with anxiety. She longed to be by Art's side, to support him, to protect him. But there she was, helpless, waiting for him to come back to her.

Minutes turned into hours - or so it felt. Time seemed to stretch and warp, playing tricks on her mind. The cries of help, yelling and screaming had died for quite some time. 

She tried to come up with reasons for his delay that made sense. Covering his tracks? Cleaning up? 

Never. Not with Art. 

She chewed at the inside of her cheek, thoughts spiraling into a dark abyss of worry and doubt. She had never felt so alone, so vulnerable.

After what she deemed to be too long of a silence, she gave in to her instincts and left the room. She wound through the maze, left and right and left and right, at first attempting to follow trails of blood and all leading to nowhere except another cheap attraction. 

(Y/n) then found herself in a rather messy and empty-looking room. Trash seemed to litter every square inch, boards scattered among the dust and grime. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a familiar comically large shoe, turning her head slowly to find the source. 

She gasped sharply, then cried out a painful scream at what lay before her. 

She stumbled over to the decapitated body of her clown, falling next to it on her knees and frantically touching him. 

“No, no, no - my love!” (Y/n) sobbed and continued to scream as tears streamed down her cheeks, refusing to accept that what was in front of her was real. 

She leaned down to rest on top of his body, arms wrapping around him as if he were still alive. Her body shook violently as she lay there with him when something glimmered next to her. 

A sparkle of silver shone from the bottom of his pant leg and she reached over to raise the fabric, seeing a hunter’s knife strapped to his calf. 

(Y/n) simply breathed for a few moments, staring at the weapon. Her hand then grasped onto the handle and slid it out, squeezing it as she sat on her knees, hovering over his body. 

She looked up at the ceiling, heartbroken and desperate.

“We’ll be okay.” Her voice echoed in her head.

Her other hand also came up to hold onto the handle, arms raising up, outstretched with the blade facing her torso. 

“We always are, in the end.”

She plunged it into herself with a hoarse scream. 

Blood seeped through her shirt, pouring down onto the body below her as she slid the blade out of herself. The knife clattered onto the floor as she dropped it, hands shaking as she slowly sunk down onto the stained floor to lay next to Art’s body. 

(Y/n) snaked her arms around him, lightly pressing herself against him as her blood soaked into his suit from behind. 

Her breath trembled, growing more and more shallow as time seemed to drag and her eyes grew heavier. 

She gave in, eyelids drooping to close as everything went black. 

-

“Just leave her.” A raspy and distorted female voice spit. “If you’re so determined, then do it yourself. I’m not wasting my time with this shit.”

The sound of retreating footsteps gradually disappeared, leaving a dark and disturbing presence to loom over the body that lay in the center of the dusty attic. 

The figure crouched down beside them, gloved hand reaching out to caress their cheek. The same hand trailed down to their torso, palm covering the fatal gash that sat over where their heart was. The figure’s eyes closed for a moment, feeling as if a force was pulling at them, weakening their already vulnerable state as they grit their teeth.

Then it disappeared. 

The figure’s eyes opened and took away their hand, watching as the face below him paled, yet somehow seemed to glow with a newfound ethereal beauty.

Suddenly, the body’s chest rose as it took in a breath, eyes fluttering open as it exhaled. Their eyes wandered for a moment, adjusting to the environment around them, then slowly met the now stark-white irises of the familiar face above them. 

“Art?” Her delicate voice called to him. 

Tag list: @hoe-for-daddywise @callsignwidow

[moonspirit]

more aruani holding hands in random situations during their day, pretty please?

Oohhhhh anon, FLUFF! T_______T Thank you!

Honestly, holding hands is the easiest and quickest way in which Aruani express their affections. Especially if they're in tricky and very public situations where they can't get a lot of time together alone, a brush of hands comforts them both.

I like to think this is something that begins in their cadet years! Maybe it was just a spur of the moment grab of the other's wrist that neither thought very much about in the beginning. After all, they all engaged in lots of combat training and rigorous exercise. What's a touch? But then the touch lingered lower and lower... until fingers pushed into spaces so right and warm.

And maybe they never spoke about their feelings before it was too late, but until the inevitable distance came to separate them, they found themselves, reaching for the other's hand every now and then, alone on the walls at night, for some kind of elusive warmth and solace.

After stohess, when Armin visits Annie and talks and talks and talks, often he glances at her hands, so small and soft, encased in a hard rock and so far away from him. He thinks about it, wishes for it, longs to hold her hands, both of them this time, and stroke his thumb back and forth until that familiar warmth spreads under skin again.

When he finds her eating pie, his heart is racing. He stared at her for years and years and here she is, pale under the sunlight, sugar stuck on her lips. Sugar on her fingers too, and he's struck dumb with disbelief. When nobody's looking, he uses his cloak to clean her fingers off the sticky residue. It's surreal, her fingers are between his again, under the table, movement in the way they press hard into his knuckles, and he wants to gasp. Of course, he knows her cheeks are so so red, and his too, but for now, he'll blame it on the sun.

On the boat, they don't quite make it so close. After she sits and he lets her wrist go, their hands are flat on the wooden planks, pinkies barely touching but... still and immobile. Anything, anything god, to hold her hand, to hold his hand, maybe this impossible heartbeat will be a little easier then.

But they don't make it that close.

When she's 14 metres above ground fighting on massive bones, and manages to catch him, tiny and human, before he falls to his death, his hand is in hers. Like this, he's so small but his weight is so real in her huge hand. And his palm scorches the flesh of her titan skin when he presses down hard.

When the dust settles and the world is new... the first to find each other are Armin's hands and Annie's.

There's time now. And it's spent laying her palm flat on his knee until he turns it over and holds her hand inside his. At night when they sleep, their fingers are always braided. She combs through his hair and he meets her halfway, smiling. He unbuttons her shirt and she's burning up so she begs him to slow down by the push of her palms against his. They go running in the mornings, and it's hand in hand. The skin of her hand against his lips, the skin of his hand against her heartbeat. Warm. Tender. Soft. Calloused. So very lovely.

Hand-holding, that is.

[ohno-the-sun]

edit:

CLOSED

Thank you to everyone who applied!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yayaya done with the MAP call art and video

If you would like to participate in this Daycare Attendant themed MAP please fill out this form and read the rules listed there.

I have also made a part breakdown for everyone's reference

Latest I will contact people by will be September 1st, if there's still parts open by then I will extend the deadline

A discord will be made for all the animators so they can talk and collaborate if they like (not mandatory to join)

In general I want to give the artists as much time as possible but timeline will be around 3-4 months.

The parts are pretty long so make sure you have the time/motivation!

And for organization I'm gonna put all the stuff relating to this project under the tag #DCA animators project

If you have any questions or concerns please let me know!

Also shoutout to @chaireem and @garbagechocolate for helping me with the form and logistics

Tagging everyone who expressed interest in the tags or comments on the first post below the cut

Sorry if I missed you!

@benji-draws @the-squishy-scrimblo @quetzal-pretzel-blog @piixelpaint @aquilacalvitium @just-a-drawing-bean @tenaciouslittlething @peanut-007 @modellingispainge @burntchickenlookingass @kibbits @kandidandi

[ryllen]

Look what came through the mail today! The letters & ( •̀ω•́ )σ 3 little gremlins from letterstoear.

Just wanna say i adore the flower stickers on the letters too much, they are that much worth mentioning.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

more laughingstock pleaseee? 💙 💚

Yes Yes Yes i have this very small soft scribble to offer <3

[cosmicdenro]

'rhm and wilhelm trying to hang out but their duties getting in the way so much so their relationship deteriorates throughout the months but in a way that makes them prone to jealousy of others getting to spend more time with the other and unable to figure out what the other even enjoys enough anynore as a gift' for tonight sir?

[emoreooo]

doomed valentines 🥀

aka what if kel and aubrey took over sweetheart’s castle ?

this is an au where if you interact with the keeper of sweethearts castle as anyone but omori, it unlocks a whole new optional level. you wake up in the picnic area with hero but no kel or aubrey. sweethearts castle is different and basil joins you for this level

the castle's main towers seem to have split into two, but the main building remains one, and smaller from the outside. but it turns out to be unnaturally spacious at times, as if the building was a psychological maze trying to separate... certain people apart

you find aubrey. she looks different, but happier. “it's like a princess' dream come true. it’s everything i could ever want and more.” she says, smiling at you. “now... all i need left is my lovely prince charming—”

“hey, guys !!”

enter kel.

“ugh.”

kel also looks different, if not for the fact hes wearing an obnoxious shade of pink, head to toe. he is happy to see you all. “everyone here LOVES me ! they respect me and trust me and all that kinda stuff. man, i feel so powerful ! im never leaving this place !”

that didnt seem to sit right, so hero intervened. “but.. if you stayed here, wouldn’t you miss everyone else ? omori, basil, me... mari ?”

“well, duh ! that’s why you guys will be staying with me too !”

that broke a new fight between kel and aubrey, but for the wrong reasons

it ends with aubrey dragging basil along with her, hero with kel, and you alone on the bridge connecting the two towers. you have a choice to follow one of them first. lets say, kel.

you head for kels tower and find hero talking with kel, trying to convince his brother.

“didja know ?? the sprout moles here love me so much they made me offerings, like, im a god or something ! pretty cool huh ?”

“..offerings ?”

“yeah ! oh man.. hero, youre not jealous, right ?”

“wh— no. its just.. a bit ridiculous.”

“...ridiculous ?” kels confused expression contorts into a smile, that of understanding. “i see whats going on. its okay, hero, i know its gotta be tough to be put to the side. and overlooked. bet its weird not being in the spotlight for once.”

you caught a quick flash of horror written on heros face. “kel.. are you saying this because—”

“but its ok ! as long as were here, neither of us will ever have to feel that way !”

remaining determined, hero put his foot down. “thats enough, kel. you cant stay here.”

“yea, thats a good one, bro.”

“im... serious. were leaving, kel.”

the younger boy stops laughing. ”...oh. youre— why ?”

“i dont think this place is anything like it seems. i think its a sham.”

kel barks with laughter.

“oh so when it benefits ME is it a sham. man, how selfish can you be ?”

“...what ?”

“you really cant stand it when its not all about you, huh ? but what about me ? what about kel ?”

“i-i think this place is affecting you. please, kel, listen to me.”

“no. if you wanna leave so bad, fine ! the sprout moles can send you out. but im not leaving. im happy here anyway, and you wont get it.”

with that, kel leaves you two in his tower. hero seems distracted, before suggesting you both go find basil

you head for aubreys tower, only to find a scared basil locked in a cell. upon freeing him, he stares over your shoulder.

“o-omori.” he whispers. “...behind you.”

“well, well.. well !”

enter aubrey.

“aubrey! why was basil locked in?” hero asks, perplexed.

“hm? well, he kept trying to leave! i couldnt let that happen, not when i was sharing my happiness with him.” aubrey frowns. “i thought he was my friend.”

basil looks terrified. “aubrey.. i am your friend.”

“hmhm, of course you are. friends dont leave each other behind, right omori?”

hero once again steps in. “aubrey, i think youre taking this too far. of course we want you to be happy, but kidnapping your friends isnt the way. this place is messing with your heads, so we should leave before it gets worse.”

but your path is blocked by kel in the doorway.

“that wont do.” aubrey hums behind you, brandishing her shiny pink bat. “no.. not at all. what do you think, kel ?”

“i think its rude to leave in the middle of a party. right, hero? you taught me that one!”

“kel..”

he then takes a bow as aubrey joins him. “so, friends, may we have this dance?”

“let us sweep the floor !”

boss battle mechanics !

you can not change aubrey or kels emotions even at the start of the battle. the only ones who can change their emotions are each other, so the best strategy is to adapt with your own party’s emotion play

there are 4 phases to this battle. a neutral state, tier one emotion, tier two, and lastly tier three, much like most emotion based bosses. between each phases, aubrey will make kel happier, while kel makes aubrey angrier. they are not made to have the sad emotion, however,

if you end third phase with an attack from hero, kel will start fourth phase with a depressed emotion instead of manic, giving your team good advantage on winning since he relies on speed. aubrey will still be furious, but its still one enemy disadvantaged

once you defeat them they will go snork mimi in your arms and you must carry them out of the castle and back to mari.

“aww, i guess its past their royal nap time !”

[icewindandboringhorror]

just a few little bits from the past few days

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

thinking about superheroes unfortunately

[sieglinde-freud]

thinking about them and banging my head against the wall again whats new. they are making me so emo. god. what the fuck

[novelconcepts]

not fic related but you and your wife seem so happy! any advice for a couple of newly married queer ladies?

Hey, I love any excuse to talk about being gay and happy! Congrats on being newly married! I dunno, my advice is always really straightforward. Like. Keep prioritizing communication, keep talking to each other about your day, your headspace, the stuff you love, the stuff that freaks you out. Keep that line open no matter how long you're together, because I really do think marriages fall apart when you start just assuming you can read one another's minds. My wife and I are always really careful to be honest with one another; for example, in the event that one of us is having a bad day and the other person's jokes aren't landing, 'cuz we're just sensitive that day, we talk about it. it soothes hurt feelings before they can really take root.

And find ways of making your own fun. Try new foods together, travel if you're into that, remind yourself that intimacy (if that's your bag) is an excuse to just play with one another and learn about the other person. Cherish the comfort of knowing your person is there for you no matter what, make sure you're on equal footing together, make sure you're allowing each other the space to change and grow and learn. And just take as much joy as you can out of being in love. It's not an easy thing, living in the world right now, but love makes it a damn sight more bearable. Queer love is awesome, queer joy is awesome. I wish you all the best, friend.

[lanternlightss]

sighs. oh how the human and inhuman meet together in their understandings of one another, we’re really in it now …

[kleptonancydrew]

Niche observation perhaps but, does Leo give anyone else major Jesuit vibes? He is clearly Catholic coded (at a Catholic cathedral) and wears a clerical collar but does not go by 'Father' or any other ordained title. (He's clearly not a seminarian at this point in his life.) Jesuits tend to be the only ones I know who do this - but that's very much an American thing I think.

[steakout-05]

for months now i have had this little story idea bouncing around in my head for an AU of Jetpack Joyride where Barry is stuck inside a big expermental time loop conducted by Legitimate Research to create an army of randomly selected time-travelling soldiers. the idea is very much still rough and i dunno if and when i'll develop it into a bigger thing, but it's a pretty cool idea and it's a twist on the JJ game that i've never really seen much exploration on.

basically, it focuses on Barry, who is the sort of Patient Zero of an experimental concentrated time-fuckery technology LR is working on. every single day, at exactly the same time, Barry goes out to work his salesman job, discovers the jetpack, breaks into the laboratory, takes it for a joyride, eventually gets hit by an obstacle and dies. the next day, Barry goes out to work his salesman job, discovers the jetpack, breaks into the lab, takes it for a joyride and dies. and he does the same exact thing the next day, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day... he's pretty much stuck in a loop of the exact same events happening repeatedly every single day, and he has absolutely no idea about it. that is, until there's a glitch in the system, and Barry progressively becomes a lot more suspicious and paranoid about the situation he's in. the rest of this post is gonna be REALLY spoilery (like i literally just explain big important chunks of the story for several paragraphs) if i ever make this into a full-fledged fanfic, so i'm gonna put it under a keep reading thingy. also it is... quite long and convoluted lol.

as the story goes on, it focuses more on the mental degredation of Barry as he starts uncovering all these weird clues, slowly trying to piece together what's going on and driving himself insane, because every time a reset occurs, his memory of the previous loop ever happening is completely wiped and everything he did that day goes all the way back to square one. since the malfunctioning of LR's technology though, Barry has been getting little nuggets of deja vu and half-remembered fragments of dying before a reset. this eventually becomes him repeating things to himself, little phrases and codes over and over and over in hopes that it will persist into the next reset. this eventually becomes symbols stuck up on the walls of his room and then progresses to entire rituals to help him remember and little behaviourisms like tics and stims to let him know he's in another loop. he becomes more and more panicked and unsettled, paranoid that someone - or something - is watching him closely. additionally, he keeps having disturbing dreams in the early hours of the morning before he gets up to go to work, ones that are symbolic and prophetic, as if they're trying to warn him about something. i've had concepts of him waking up on top of a pile of millions of mangled carcasses that all look exactly like Barry, and having on them them forcefully grab onto his leg and pull him down with the rest of them. it's kinda like the nightmare Woody has in Toy Story 2, but like, dead guys everywhere, lol.

the backstory of this whole thing is kinda insane. basically, Legitimate Research is a sketchy government funded facility that's doing secret time experiments to create the strongest beings for a purpose that's somewhat similar to Brains' Zomb Bomb plan from AOZ (i haven't fully decided yet). Barry is someone who has been randomly selected for their newest version of the concentrated time loop experiment, where patients will be put under looping tests to extract data about their strength, agility and performance and decide what they need to supplement them with in order to create the perfect soldier.

Barry was 22 years old when he was selected. he was actually a relatively normal local Fish N' Chips vendor living in New South Wales, but one day, when he recieved an exciting letter in the mail about a new ambitious job opportunity, he completely disappeared without a trace and seemed to have been entirely erased from the minds of everyone he had ever known. Barry had actually been kidnapped and ensnared into a mind-experiments facility of the laboratory, where they proceeded to wipe his mind, proof of his existence and his entire personhood up to this point, and replaced all of it with fake memories to fill in the gaps. he was then placed in stasis and to be injected with high doses of strength drugs as they crafted a new life for him behind the scenes. a new house, in a new state, all with new stories and memorabilia meant to be lived out by new person. now, he was Barry Steakfries in Queensland, a rough-around-the-edges guy with a passion for action movies and destruction. he was a revel with a thirst for chaos and freedom, but he just didn't have the means to achieve it yet. it was all according to plan.

a big part of the story i want to tell that involves him is that at some point, Barry tries to break free from the time loop by doing something different. this takes a lot of pre-planning, memory rituals and repeating details to himself, but after he wakes up from a reset and gets out of bed, he hesitates, choosing to go to a different place to sell his gramophones that day. he deliberately tries his best to avoid Legitimate Research's headquarters as much as he can, and while he doesn't completely remember why he's doing it, he has a deep gut feeling that he should stay away from them at all costs. so he does. and at first, it goes well. the day is different, his choices seem to actually matter and for once, the feeling of deja vu isn't tearing him apart... until a crazy freak accident happens that forces Barry to die and reset the time loop again, wiping away everything he had done that day. Legitimate Research is now forcefully trying to stop him from knowing what the hell is going on by forcing him to die with each now discovery he makes, and Barry has to figure out more and more creative solutions to averting their surveillance and trying to get the hell out of the loop.

Craig will also be involved with the story too!! i'm not exactly sure what exactly the events leading up to Barry discovering and meeting him would be, but it'd be kinda halfway-late-ish into the story where Barry manages to cut off LR's surveillance of him, breaks into the laboratory and searches through its archives for anything relating to time. during this raid, he accidentally discovers the true Patient Zero to this time experiment: a broken, decrepit shell of a man who has been hooked up to a set of wires and locked away deep into the laboratory, never meant to be discovered by anyone, only known simply as #000 'Craig'. Craig was the very first human they used to run an early prototype of these experiments, but through malfunctions in the threads of LR's technology, he ended up knowing too much and tried to break free from his time loop, which resulted in him being dragged out of reality and becoming completely detached from his own time, stopping his aging process completely and practically allowing him to exist forever and persistently through every reset unaffected. LR relocated him and considered him a catastrophic failure, locking him away in a cell deep in the bowels of the laboratory before destroying and erasing every archive of him ever having existed in any point in time. and now, the same thing is about to happen to Barry if he doesn't figure out a way to stop what's happening quickly. Barry, outisde of LR, is the only one who is aware of Craig's existence in this timeline. Barry makes a vow to make sure that he will never ever forget Craig, no matter what happens to him, no matter how many times his timeline gets reset, because he is the only other person on the whole world who truly understands what he's going through.

at the very end of the story, when Barry finally escapes the time loop and is about to enter into a new reality where none of this ever happened, he reaches out a hand to Craig and offers he come with him to live. Craig, however, rejects the offer, sadly confessing to Barry that because of his disconect from the threads of time progression itself, Craig must stay behind and be erased along with everything inside this one and let Barry live his life. Barry protests, insisting that his life wouldn't be complete without him and that they've already gone through so much together, but Craig assures him that this is the best for the both of them, and that Barry must leave him soon before the window to escape closes. Barry gives Craig once last goodbye, holding him close and basking in his presence for the final time. he closes his eyes, presses his head against Craig's and whispers "I promise I'll never forget you." before he slowly lets him go, not breaking their locked gaze on each other for even a second as he steps into the portal and ventures into an entirely new reality, never to return.

i want there to be an epilogue part where Barry starts his new life and goes looking for a place to stay, and he comes across the place where LR used to be, which is instead occupied with a big square fence plot and a sign that says "UNDER CONSTRUCTION: NEW RESTAURANT TO BE BUILT". Barry stares at it for a moment and reflects on everything that has happened. all the hellish experiments that were once held inside this very plot of land, all the trauma he went through to get to this point, Craig's sacrifice, everything has lead up to him standing here, in the right place, at the right time, to finally live the life he should've had to begin with. eventually, he turns away, continuing to walk down the street. he should go check that place out sometime.

(insert "what a fucked up dream for a baby to have" ending from 'then what' here)