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bluebnny · 23 days ago

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Out of control - part 2

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

trafalgar law x reader

contents: reader teases law, suggestive, but probably counts as smut, established relationship, everything that happens is consentual

warnings: NSFW, MDNI, law feels up reader, a lot of teasing from law in general, very light bondage - reader is technically gender neutral (ie. no use of pronouns), but has a vagina

a/n: ok, so remember how i wrote in the last one that i would make a part 2 because i'm too much of a yapper to actually get to the smut? yeah... i didn't get to the smut this time either, sorry. This part is the foreplay and setup, so the next and final part will definitely be smut :). Mostly proof-read. Dividers made by me. I hope you enjoy <3

word count: 3.504

The steady hum of the Polar Tang’s engine greets you once more as you leave Law’s office. You don’t immediately go back to work like you had let him believe. Instead, you make your way to the old storage room, walking fast.

The old door creaks a bit as you enter, but this level of the ship is almost always deserted, so you know you have nothing to worry about. Still, you don’t slow down once inside the room, your destination clear in your mind. Aside from the fresh layer of dust coating everything, the storage is in pristine condition, which is a fairly recent development.

A few months back, Law someone had made a huge deal out of some dumb old medical textbook getting misplaced. You and a few other crewmates had been tasked with cleaning out the room, spending the better part of a month tidying, scrubbing, and sorting everything in there until the air in the entire level felt clearer. You had taken your job very seriously, having turned the dingy and disorganized old room into a proper archive.

Everything is now so well organized that every single item has its own place, even some unusual ones you and your crew mates had had a lot of fun arguing over the categorisation of. You had ended by rounding up all the weirdest items no one could agree on and decided on their categories by coming up with funny ways to use them. The rule had been that whatever category could fit the most items in it would win, the logic being that it was more efficient than judging each item separately.

That’s how you had decided on the name of the box you’re headed to, now. You reach the desired row of shelves and don’t hesitate before diving into a box jokingly labelled “emergency supplies: use next time captain rejects bedrest while sick” which had been occupying your mind for months. Because aside from a few running jokes between you and your fellow crewmates, the odd items you found had also given you a new idea.

You rummage around between the various objects in there, pushing aside some random pieces of rope that weren’t rotten enough to discard, an old toy gun no one knew the origin of, a foam knife that must have been a prop for a halloween party at some point, a leather belt no one had claimed, and a real taser that no longer worked. Your hand finally closes around the item you were looking for.

“Still there.” You smirk, quickly closing the box again and sneaking out of the room before anyone notices the open door.

…

Dinner is lively as usual, and a very welcome opportunity for you to avoid Law a little longer. Not that he would ever do something in front of the crew, that’s not what you’re worried about. This time, there is a different reason for you not meeting his gaze. You have a plan. A way to take your revenge. But you know that if you look at him, Law will immediately know something is up. So, the best option is to immerse yourself in the conversation around you, letting him think that nothing is out of the ordinary, and that your avoidance is simply still due to being flustered from earlier.

When you’re done eating, you don’t immediately go back to your shared room even though you can barely contain yourself from anticipation. It’s important to act normal, to not let your nervousness show. So, despite how tired you are, you linger a little like you usually would, chat a little more, and join in on a few activities, acting like you don’t have a care in the world.

Law is already in the room, having left with a glance to you that clearly communicated that he wanted you to join him. But you had simply pretended not to get the obvious message, instead smiled at him innocently and said, “Oh you’re going to bed? Good idea, you must be exhausted after working so late yesterday.” Quickly trying to focus your attention on the card game, as if you weren’t already losing from your lack of concentration.

When you do finally decide to get up about an hour later, you rush to your room, not knowing if the rapid beating of your heart was due to excitement or nausea. You don’t even look at him upon entering, heading directly to the bathroom, and quickly grabbing your toothbrush. You hear his footsteps follow behind you, and he speaks after a moment.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Law’s voice is level as usual, and you look into the mirror over the sink to see him standing in the doorway. You’re already brushing your teeth, having done it partly in the hope that it would hide the way your hands were shaking a little, partly to have an excuse not to speak. But Law is, unfortunately, patient, and stays where he is.

You can’t help but admire him a little. His hat is off again, and the way he’s casually leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed highlights his toned physique and broad shoulders. He had put on the white tank top and light grey pyjama pants that he usually wears to sleep. He also has that look on his face again, the same one he had in his office earlier, and you’re starting to wonder if Law knows how ridiculously attractive he is.

You have to quickly spit out the toothpaste to hide the fact that you were just about to start drooling. “Have I?” You ask him, still trying to sound innocent. You’re not turning around, unable to pull your eyes away from his reflection.

He steps behind you now, hands on your shoulders, gaze locked on yours through the mirror. The dark circles framing his lower eyelids only deepen the effect that his bedroom eyes already have on you. It’s quite unfair, really. You also see how flustered your expression is, and he smirks at that and leans down to trail some light kisses down the side of your neck. Your sharp intake of breath only spurs him on, becoming a bit rougher and sucking down, clearly aiming to leave bruises.

He turns you around, still holding your shoulders, leaning in as if to kiss you, but not letting your lips touch. He’s taller than you and can easily stay out of reach of your lips, which just about reach his shoulder. “Yes, you have.” He mutters.

“Well, I’m not anymore.” You respond, trying to reach his face “I’m actually trying my very best to kiss you right now.” Deciding to wrap your arms around the back of his neck in an attempt to pull him down by sheer strength alone.

“Good, because I wasn’t planning on letting you avoid me much longer.” There’s a moment at first where he doesn’t budge, his only purpose to show you how easily he could overpower you if he wanted, demonstrating that he’s only kissing you because he chooses to, not because you’re putting most of your body weight into it. But he finally obliges and catches your lips in a heated kiss.

Together, you stumble to the bedroom, both trying your best not to break the kiss. You subtly push him backwards against the bed until the backs of his knees are touching it, and press on his chest a little, indicating that you want him to sit down. He completely ignores this, however, instead spinning you around and guiding your waist in a similar way. When you don’t budge, he doesn’t hesitate to simply bend down and pick up your legs, so your now unsupported torso drops back onto the bed.

You let out a surprised yelp when your head sinks into the soft blanket, but he ignores it. Instead, he spreads your legs and kneels down between them, bending down to continue making out as if nothing had happened. His hands are on your sides again, and before you know it, he gently lifts your torso and drags you further up the bed. Simply positioning you the way he wants you if you won’t take the hint and do it yourself.

His mouth is hot against yours, and just like every other time you’re in this position, you’re taken aback all over again by how good of a kisser he is. He’s kissing you so well you feel a little lightheaded, struggling to regain control. But you’re not giving up this easy, although it’s definitely tempting.

“Wait, Law. Stop.” You manage to breathe out between kisses.

“Hm?” He looks up, clearly confused, but respects your request. “Do you not want to?”

“No, I do! It’s just…” You look down a little flustered “Just, can you lie on your back? Maybe?” God, is it always this tough to meet his gaze?

His expression immediately turns to one of mischief. You can’t ignore the fact that he looks quite intimidating when he’s turned on, his lean frame towering over you with ease, eyes fixed on you like a predator about to devour his prey. It’s probably helped by the fact that he only smiles when he’s either about to fuck you, or about to murder someone. Your stomach tightens deliciously.

“Why.”

It’s not spoken like a question. It’s a challenge. He sees right through you, knows exactly what you’re trying to do. And he’s not going to make it easy for you. If you’re going to attempt being in charge, you can’t expect him to simply comply. Still, he doesn’t want to push back too much just yet, wanting to see where this is going.

“I uhm… I don’t know. Just want to change things up a bit, that’s all.” If you were looking at him, you would see the way he smirks darkly at you, but you’re too preoccupied with fiddling with the neckline of his tank top to notice.

For the second time that night, he lifts you up without warning, by your waist this time. Before you can understand what happened, he’s falling back against the mattress, with you on top, straddling his lap. His hands are firmly planted on your sides, eyes still locked on your face. In your surprise, you look at him, noting his cocky expression.

“Well?” God he’s a bastard.

You just lean down to kiss him again, knowing it’s best to avoid answering. Law is too smart for his own good, so trying to win an argument against him now that you’re not thinking straight is an even worse idea than it is usually.

You do everything you can to show him you want to take control this time. Pushing down on his chest when he leans up into the kiss a bit too much, holding his face and neck like he always does when kissing you. And you see why he does it. God, this feels good. You start to feel a weird sort of craving, a longing. The feeling of needing to be close to him overcomes you, and you almost forget you were about to have sex from how deeply you’re enjoying just being intimate with him.

It's when his hands move from your waist to your shoulders that you remember you were trying to take back control. It takes everything in you to grasp his hands and lift them off you. You pin them on either side of his head, leaving him completely exposed. Vulnerable. But you keep kissing him.

You almost squeal when he forcefully shoves his hips up into you, the way his bulge roughly collides with your clit making you lose your composure for a split second, and he takes his chance to once again move his hands to your body while you’re distracted. Neither of you break the kiss, but you can definitely feel his smirk against your lips now. You lightly bite him through the kiss, but it just makes him hum in amusement. You should have known better than to think he would make it that easy for you.

Realizing that you have to resort to your backup plan – and secretly delighted about it – you reach your hand under his pillow, where you had hidden your secret weapon after fetching it from the storage earlier. Your other hand is busy taking one of his arms and placing it above his head again. Finally, having found what you were looking for, you pull out the pair of handcuffs from under the pillow and quickly fasten one of the manacles around his wrist. Law makes a noise of surprise but doesn’t stop you from wrapping the chain behind one of the bars of his headboard and tying his other hand up too.

You both pull away from the kiss now. You, to admire your handiwork, Law, to look between you and his tied hands in utter surprise and shock. Seems he didn’t see through you all the way after all.

It’s your turn to smirk now, straightening up a bit and placing your hands on your hips. You playfully narrow your eyes at him, challenging him to make his next move. Of course, the handcuffs aren’t made from seastone, only normal metal, so Law isn’t actually trapped and could easily get out of them if he wanted to. He quickly regains his unbothered composure, but humours you, it seems, and rests his head down on the pillow again.

“Didn’t see that one coming, did you, captain?” you tease him, and he just scoffs. Law looks mildly annoyed; the type of exasperation that makes you want to agitate him further to see where it leads.

“I’ll admit, I didn’t.” He responds, tone unreadable. But the recklessness in his eyes gives him away.

So, you decide to resume making out with him, glad he didn’t put up more of a fight, and thinking you’ve got him where you want him now. But you’re quickly proven wrong when he roughly pushes his hips into yours a second time and again manages to elicit a moan from you at the intense sensation.

“Speaking of seeing things coming…” he murmurs into the kiss, and you don’t have to open your eyes to know he’s grinning at the state you’re in. “Someone’s sensitive.”

But the fight hasn’t left you yet, lowering your hands to his chest and your mouth to his neck, you start grinding your hips roughly into his while sucking a hickey into the place under his ear. The reaction is immediate, Law letting out a breathy groan before he can stop himself.

“Fuck.” He lets out and you look up just enough to throw him a little smirk back before trailing little kisses all the way from his jaw to his collarbones, nipping at his skin every now and then.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that. Who’s sensitive?” you ask him in between kisses, and the breath he lets out at that sounds more like a barely contained growl than anything else. However much Law can seem pissed off sometimes, you quickly learned from dating him that he loves it when you talk back. Not that he would ever admit that. Not that he even realizes it himself.

But the pushback excites him. As someone who has learned to expect every good thing in his life to fall apart, being with someone too calm would only stress him out. He would try – and fail – to figure out their sick and twisted mind games, finding the person unpredictable, and therefore dangerous. That’s why he loves when you fight back, allowing him to push further under the guise of standing his ground, loving the challenge. It makes it all the more satisfying when you break apart for him.

And his excitement is clear from the way he’s instinctively pulling at the shackles still tying his hands to the bed and from the hard bulge forming under his pyjamas. You know he’s about to start bucking his hips into yours again, wanting to take back control. Trying to abuse all your weak spots to make you fall apart for him, depend on him. Law desperately needs to reduce you to the mess he is so scared of becoming himself.

But this time, you see it coming and refuse to let him get to you again. You place the top of your feet over his thighs behind you and move your hands to his hips, right where you can feel his pelvis, and hold him down like that. The position makes you unable to reach his neck, so you simply sit as straight as your can with your hands firmly planted on his sides and give him a teasing smile that you hope makes you look confident.

God, he looks utterly wrecked already. The way his eyelids are heavy and his mouth half open, the overall effect greatly enhanced by the way his chest heaves with every deep breath. His head is thrown back on the pillow a bit from how you were attacking his neck, and the look he throws you through half-lidded eyes is one of pure lust and need. The sight makes you want to fuck him right now, but still, you hold back, wondering how much self control he must have to be able to do this to you every single time. But you’re not done messing him up, not yet.

Still sitting over his hard cock, you start grinding your core over it again, this time making sure to give him as little friction as you can. You manage not to roll your eyes but can’t stop yourself from biting your lip at how good it feels. Fuck, you could cum just from this. He’s fully hard beneath his pants now, and you can perfectly feel the outline of his thick cock from how you’re dragging your clit against it.

Law is trembling slightly beneath you, clearly struggling to cope with the fact that you can get him just as needy as he can get you. “Y/n, if you don’t do something soon…” He urges through gritted teeth.

“You know, this is where you would usually make me beg for it.” You answer him, not able to stop yourself. It’s the truth, but you don’t actually plan on it, knowing he wouldn’t let you be on top ever again if you tried. Plus, you’re enjoying it too much to give it up. When he shoots you a menacing glare, however, you stop your teasing and lift off of him. He lets out a low groan at the loss of touch but doesn’t want to stop you now that you’re at least doing something.

You pull at the waistband of his pyjama bottoms, and he lifts his hips to help you pull the fabric down his legs. Much to Law’s displeasure, yours remain on. He usually undresses you fully and toys with you a little before he even thinks of pulling down his own pants, often making you cum a few times first, but sometimes opting to simply edge you until you’re almost sobbing.

Your hands find his cock. It’s hard, twitching, and leaking almost as much as you must be from all the teasing and foreplay you’ve both endured from each other.

Law watches you reposition yourself and bow your head down, your tongue out. He braces himself and manages to only let out a shuddering breath when it makes contact with the sensitive underside of his shaft. You slowly lick a stripe up his length, taking your time to savour it, occasionally applying a little more pressure by sucking the side of it with your lips. You do this a few times, but always make sure to avoid his sensitive tip, where you know he needs you most.

“Y/n, if you don’t do something now, I’m going to make you regret not using seastone cuffs on me.” He growls through his clenched jaw, and you know he means it.

Law likes to be a bit rough with you. Nothing extreme, he doesn’t want to hurt you or anything like that, but he loves to mess you up a little. There’s something so delicious in being able to make you so desperate, to lovingly break you, knowing it’s all because of him. You’re surprised he even let you go as far as you have, since he usually ignores it every time you attempt to take the lead.

“Someone’s getting worked up, huh?” You answer, but you’re quick to take off your remaining clothes and go back to sit in your initial position over his cock. You take it into your hand once again and use your other hand to lift his tank top a little, exposing his stomach up to the bottom of his chest tattoo. The sight almost has you drooling again. Hovering above him, with one hand on his chest to steady yourself, you slowly guide his tip to where you’ve both needed him for hours.

Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you liked it :D (This is my fic, don't repost! Reblogs are always appreciated <3)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

#one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law smut #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece fluff #one piece smut #trafalgar d water law

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vroomvro0mferrari · 11 months ago

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CL16 | Strategy to Your Heart

Summary: Ferrari hasn’t been doing well in the races lately, and according to Charles, there's only one person to blame for the bad strategies: you.

Charles Leclerc x colleague!Reader (enemies to lovers)

WC: 4.3K

Warnings: curse words, slightly misogynistic

Masterlist

Charles stormed into the garage, his eyes blazing with anger. His race had ended disastrously, again, and there was only one person to blame. As his race engineer, you were responsible for his strategy, which lately, had been lacking significantly and he despised you for it. The car was finally improving, yet he couldn’t seem to win a race. Simply because his race engineer managed to fuck up every time.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he shouted, his voice echoing off the walls. “Are you trying to sabotage me?”

You looked up in surprise as he approached you. Charles' anger was clear as day as he got in your face, making your hands shake from anxiety and your blood run cold. Your expression hardened as the accusation settled, a glare replacing the shock in your eyes. You opened your mouth to explain, to say something – to calm him down, but he cut you off.

“I don’t need your excuses! You clearly don’t know what you’re doing!” He yelled. The look on his face, and the posture of his body – which was much taller than yours – were intimidating. Never mind his unrelenting glare and the finger he pointed in your face before storming off to his driver's room.

His insult stung deeply. You understood that he was upset at how the race went, but he could’ve reacted differently. He just humiliated you publicly, in front of all your colleagues; he didn’t even let you get a word in edgewise. You could feel the anger bubbling up inside you at his behaviour. How dare he insult you like that? It wasn’t even your fault. You stared after him as he stomped away, before turning on your feet, storming off in the opposite direction.

You had known Charles for a long time now. Although you had never spoken much, you always greeted each other, until you got your new position in the team. Charles was already driving for Ferrari when you first started there as an intern. You joined in on meetings with the drivers and sometimes spoke to them during these, but you didn’t see the drivers much otherwise. After your time as an intern, you had gotten a full-time job and worked your way up the team, and now, finally, you had made it to race strategist for Charles Leclerc, where your decisions actually had an effect – or so you thought.

During all your years at Ferrari, the previous head of strategy, Rueda, always listened to and appreciated your opinions and suggestions for the race strategies. He supported your development over the years and saw you grow from an inexperienced intern to an expert with a unique view. Before he left Ferrari, he promoted you to Charles’ race engineer; he believed in your skill and thought you could provide unexpected, but well-working strategies that would lead Charles to victories.

However, after Rueda left, and Ravin Jain took over the job of head strategist, your opinions were ignored. You worked especially hard to convince him you deserved your current position. You developed numerous possible strategies for every one of Charles’ races, running tons of simulations to make sure you had a strategy for every situation. You thought about all the unexpected circumstances that might arise and how to maximise the outcome for each of them. You knew exactly what to do in every situation to ensure a good ending position for Charles, but Jain undermined you every single time. You would present him with all the information you had collected, and show him all the possible strategies and which ones you expected would work best, but he would never listen to you. Jain would always overrule your decisions with different options that somehow turned out much worse. As a result, Charles lost so many more places than necessary, and missed so many more podiums – wins even – than he should’ve.

The worst part was that Charles blamed you for everything. You were new in the position of race strategist, and you wanted to leave a good impression on the team and, most importantly, have a good working relationship with Charles. In your line of work, teamwork and cooperation, and consequently trust, are incredibly important. You wanted Charles to You wanted Charles to rely on you for strategy, allowing him to focus solely on driving. But he couldn’t. He questioned every advice you gave – whether it made sense – and more often than not, it didn’t. The relationship between the two of you was anything but one of trust.

Charles didn’t know what was happening between you and the head strategist. All he knew was that the strategies were awful and he was losing races that he could have won. He didn’t know how amazing and thought-out your own strategies really were, and how good you were at your job if you actually received the opportunity to do it. As a matter of fact, he had never had a real conversation with you before you got your new role. Previously, you just hung around in the background, only speaking with your team and some work friends you had made along the way, but never directly with the drivers. Quite frankly, he questioned whether you were even qualified for your job.

Although Charles didn’t know much about you, his opinion about you was formed and unchanging. To him, it seemed you didn’t know much about racing strategies or engineering; the results of your strategies and your silence during the debriefs were enough proof for him. There was only one logical explanation for how you’d gotten your role in the team; you had gotten your position through favouritism – or perhaps you’d done the head strategist a little ‘favour’.

– – – – –

During the next race, Jain had done it again. You had developed the perfect strategy for Charles, you had worked everything out so you were prepared for every situation. But when you showed the results to Jain and suggested your preferred strategy, he told you that your strategies could be better and you should ‘try this’. You knew it wasn’t a suggestion but an order to drop your strategy and use his instead. The result left you feeling defeated. Charles would undoubtedly be upset with the outcome, outing his anger on you, while you couldn’t do anything to make it better.

From your spot in the garage after the race, you could already see him stomping towards you. You couldn’t blame him really, he had missed out on yet another podium due to a bad strategy.

“What now?” you muttered under your breath as you saw him approach, bracing yourself for another confrontation.

“What now?” Charles echoed, his tone mocking. “You’re asking me that? You couldn’t form a proper strategy to save your life! How did you get this job in the first place? Sleep with the boss?”

You whipped your head around at his comment, narrowing your eyes as shock and anger coursed through your body. You had heard comments like this many times before; Formula 1 is a man’s world and you know what the men around you are like. You know you shouldn’t have expected anything less from Charles, yet you had. You were surprised that Charles would say something like this—something so vile. Yes, you had never really gotten along, but there had always been mutual respect. In all your interactions with Charles, he seemed kind enough, even if he was frustrated with you; to make such a misogynistic comment was a new low for him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? How can you even say something like that? Do you know how offensive that is?”

“You’re not denying it,” he yelled back at you.

You scoffed. “I’m not doing this,” you said, shaking your head before walking away, the tears welling up in your eyes. It felt like a betrayal.

Charles followed you, “How about you explain why you keep screwing up my races?”

You ran your hands over your face in frustration as you rushed away from him, quickly making your way to your office. Charles had already upset you, and you didn��t want to cry in front of him – your job was already hard enough without him holding something like this over your head. If your colleagues found out you had cried on the job, you would never hear the end of how women can’t handle the pressure of F1. You tried to close the door as soon as you entered your office, but Charles was already there with you, staring you down. His arms were crossed in a nonchalant manner, but his face showed his annoyance clearly. “Well?”

You tried to avoid answering his question, but it seemed impossible. Even though you had kept silent (except for your scoff, that is), he wouldn’t leave you alone. God was this man frustrating. Your patience snapped.

“I’m not the one screwing up your races, Charles. If you have any issues with the strategies you should take it up with Jain, because he changes my plans every time.”

“What are you talking about?” He asked, frowning.

“Every strategy I create, Jain overrules,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady as you closed in on him. “I come up with plans based on simulations, and data. I’m ready for every scenario. But he dismisses them and forces his own strategies, which obviously don’t work. You’re blaming the wrong person.”

Charles stared at you, the anger in his eyes slowly giving way to confusion. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“I tried,” you replied, frustration seeping into your voice. “But you were too busy yelling at me to listen. And honestly, I didn’t think you’d believe me.”

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly processing what you had said. “So, Jain is the one messing up the strategies?”

“Yes,” you confirmed. “And it’s been incredibly frustrating to watch my hard work get thrown out and to then take the blame when it fails.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be. You’ve been yelling at me for months when it wasn’t even my fault.”

“Why didn’t you do anything about it?” Charles asked.

You laughed at his question. “What was I supposed to do? You know how it is—actually, you don’t, because drivers are privileged,” you sighed at the frown on Charles’ face, “no one would have believed me if I had told them, or they probably would have agreed. And if I had gone against Jain, I would have been fired so fast,” you trailed off.

Charles sighed. You were right; how on earth were they supposed to fix this? Jain would just continue to override your decisions no matter what, and that obviously wasn’t beneficial to anyone.

“For the next race, show me your strategy, okay? We can look at it together and if I agree we can work something out. Together.”

You smiled dryly at Charles’ suggestion. If he agrees? Who does he think he is? Nevertheless, you concur, if only to get rid of him. It doesn’t sound very convincing, but Charles is satisfied nonetheless.

– – – – –

For the next race, you had prepared more than usual. After the first few encounters with Jain you had given up on preparing your races thoroughly; it felt like a waste of time. But knowing that Charles would listen to you, and you might finally get to use your own strategy motivated you.

You carefully discussed your plans with Charles in his driver’s room, away from everyone else. He listened attentively while you explained all the possible strategies and the one you thought would yield the best results. This was the first time Charles actually heard you talk about the strategies with enthusiasm, and he admired your knowledge of the topic, although he was somewhat surprised after your previous interactions. Hearing your passion for your work and knowing that you weren’t the reason for the unsuccessful races finally allowed the much-wanted bond of trust to form.

“We're going to use your strategy,” Charles said decisively. “No matter what Jain says, we'll do whatever you think is best. You've thought everything out, it'd be foolish to do something entirely different.”

"And if Jain gets mad and wants to fire me?" You asked, a hint of concern in your voice.

"The results will likely be good, so there'll be no reason for him to get mad,” Charles replied confidently. “But if he does, I'll vouch for you."

You nodded in response, a nervous but grateful smile on your face. It was exciting to finally use one of your own strategies, even though Jain would probably reject your proposals again.

Your assumption was correct; during your meeting with Jain, he had once more told you to follow his strategies instead of using your own ideas. Although Charles had told you there wouldn’t be any reason for your boss to get mad if the race went well, you weren’t assured enough to follow his advice. You couldn’t take any risks with your job – you weren’t experienced enough to get a similar job anywhere else, especially with the reputation Jain had built for you. If you had to follow his strategy to keep your job you would.

To say Charles was upset with the strategy during the race would be an understatement. He didn’t know where it had gone wrong – you had discussed this, hadn’t you? You came to the agreement that you would use your own strategy instead of listening to Jain, yet you hadn’t. The things you were telling him to do were nothing you had discussed during your private meeting. Charles felt frustrated at your inability to follow through; you were ruining his chances of a win because you were a coward who wouldn’t dare to stand up to her boss and he wasn’t going to take it.

“Boxing next lap, Charles.”

Charles scoffed at your order before responding, “Box now? That’s ridiculous! The tyres are feeling fine, I can stay out longer.”

You sigh from your position on the pit wall. “Charles, the team thinks it’s best that you–”

“I don’t care what the team thinks! What do you think is the best move?”

“Charles–” you stammer, getting nervous from his reaction.

“You know the team always makes the wrong calls, Y/N. What do you think we should do?”

You sighed, feeling the weight of the decision. If you go against Jain’s orders now and the race ends badly, you’ll be in big trouble. Charles said he’d vouch for you though, and the current strategy wasn’t going to get the team anywhere good either. You contemplate your options.

“Stay out a few more laps.”

Although you couldn’t see it, Charles smiled triumphantly in the car, knowing he had convinced you to use your own strategy. This was a good start, he just needed to do well now, to make sure you got your confidence back. So, for the next races, you would follow your own strategies as well instead of simply following Jain’s orders.

The race had ended up much better than anybody had expected, all thanks to your strategy. If you hadn’t switched up the strategy, Charles would have ended up significantly lower in the ranking. After finishing up his duties, Charles sought you out in the garage. You thought he would yell at you again, for going against your plan – going rogue, but he didn’t.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice sincere. “Your strategy worked. Next time, we’ll use your plan again. From the start this time, forget whatever Jain tells you.”

You nodded in response, a tight smile on your face. It was nice that Charles showed his appreciation for you. However, now that you were standing still instead of moving around, you were easier to spot. So far, you had managed to avoid Jain by blending in with the bustling garage, but Charles’s presence made you easy to find.

“Y/N!” Jain said loudly, making your eyes shoot over to him quickly.

“We need to have a serious talk! Follow me to my office.” The look on his face was scolding and his body posture showed his anger clearly as he walked off.

You met Charles’ eyes for a second, a nervous smile on your face. “I better go,” you said before rushing after your boss.

“I’ll come with you,” Charles responded firmly, joining your side.

“I said I’d vouch for you if Jain became angry. I always keep my word,” he said after seeing the confused look on your face.

Jain had already taken a seat in his office when you walked in.

“What the hell were you thinking? Ignoring my strategy?” he hollered.

You took a deep breath, mustering the courage to go against him, but Charles beat you to it, stepping out from behind the door.

“There’s no need to yell at your employee like that, Jain. Besides, her strategy led to much better results than boxing would have.”

Jain’s eyes quickly darted over to him in surprise, having missed his presence, before focusing on you. “You’re here to follow orders, Y/N. Not to make your own decisions. You disobeyed a direct instruction.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Charles had already started speaking, his voice steady but firm.

“With all due respect, Jain, it’s clear that Y/N’s strategy was superior today. Her approach brought us better results, and we need to recognise that.”

Jain turned his glare to Charles, clearly not pleased with the driver’s intervention. “This is none of your business, Charles. She’s my employee, and she needs to follow my orders.”

“Actually, it is my business,” Charles shot back.

Your eyes darted over to him. This was not at all the right time, but he looked hot as fuck defending you like this. He hadn’t even had the time to change after the race, his driver’s suit hanging around his waist with his black fireproofs on full display. His hair was messy and his cheeks were flushed, whether it was from the race or frustration, you weren’t sure. You could feel your own cheeks turning hot at the sight, and you were certain a blush was spreading across your face, too.

“Her strategies directly affect my performance on the track. Today, she proved her worth. She deserves the chance to implement her plans without being overruled.”

The room fell silent as Jain stared at Charles, his anger simmering beneath the surface.

No, not the right time at all.

Jain finally sighed, rubbing his temples. “Fine. You’ve made your point. But if it fails there will be consequences.”

You nodded eagerly, “of course.”

Charles nodded as well, happy with the outcome.

– – – – –

The next few races turned out much better. Without interference, you could confidently present and implement your strategies. And the results spoke for themselves: Charles consistently finished on the podium. His performance improved so much that even Jain had to admit your strategies worked better than his.

When the next race weekend arrived tensions were high. So far, your racing strategies had proved successful, but you aimed for more every race. It was certainly helpful that you and Charles were a good team. Ever since the issues between Charles and you were resolved, there was mutual trust, and Charles supported every strategy you came up with, even if it seemed risky.

You wished Charles good luck with a nervous smile before he got in his car and, as had become a ritual, he responded confidently with a “we’ve got this” and a reassuring smile that somehow always calmed your nerves.

When the race began you confidently pursued your strategy while Charles navigated the track with precision. Everything went perfectly: the pit stops as swift and smooth as could be and every decision moving Charles closer to the front.

There were only a few laps to go with Charles steadily in second place, closing in on the leader. He managed to get within DRS range and, as the team watched in anticipation, executed a flawless overtake, taking the lead in the race. The garage filled with cheers and applause as the team celebrated his amazing overtake. Meanwhile, a big smile overtook your features as you watched Charles drive on the screen in front of you.

You stared in disbelief when Charles crossed the finish line in first place. The joy was immense; the whole garage was celebrating the fresh win as you hugged the rest of the team on the pit wall in delight. You had done it – your strategy had led him to a win.

Following your colleagues, you rushed to the parc fermé, wanting to be the first to celebrate this amazing race with him. You watched as Charles got out of his car, pumping his fist in the air in victory. The smile on his face was huge as he jogged to the team waiting to congratulate him.

“We did it, Y/N!” he exclaimed, pulling you into a celebratory hug. You laughed at his antics but hugged him back nevertheless. If there wasn’t a barrier between you, he would have lifted you up and spun you around, that’s how happy he was. Two months ago he couldn’t have envisioned a win any time soon, and now he had managed to snatch up the first place, all thanks to you.

After his weigh-in, he walked back to you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I want you to come up on the podium with me,” he said.

“Ah,” he tutted, already knowing you would protest before you even opened your mouth, “it’s just as much your win as it’s mine.”

“Charles…”

“You deserve to be up there too! It’s your first win!”

You stared at him hesitantly.

“Come on, Y/N. Just this once. If you say no, I’ll just ask again next time, and the time after that, and—”

“Next time?”

“Yes. We’re obviously going to win many more races together!” Charles said with a childish grin. “Come on!” He continued, tugging on your sleeve.

You finally succumbed, nodding your head. “Okay, fine.”

“Ah perfect! I’ll see you up there!” He said with a big grin, before walking off to do his interview.

You used the time Charles was in the cooldown room to mentally prepare yourself. You were about to stand on the podium. Your face was going to be broadcast on live TV for everyone to see, and it made you nervous. You smiled nervously at the people guiding you up the stairs to the podium where you met Charles. He smiled comfortingly and chatted with you relaxedly while you waited for his name to be called out.

When the time came, you tried to stay in the background, hiding behind Charles who walked out in front of you before taking your place on the separate podium for the winning constructor. From your position, you could see the crowd cheering for Charles while the Monegasque anthem sounded over the track. You admired the sea of red that was here for Ferrari, for Charles. When the Italian anthem played you made eye contact with Charles, laughing silently with him over your colleagues singing along loudly.

You gracefully accepted the trophy for the team, smiling and lifting it up after it was offered to you. The sound of your team cheering and applauding filled you with joy. You couldn’t be prouder of Charles for this achievement, and maybe of yourself too, especially when you saw the admiring look Charles was sending you. It made your thoughts hazy, tuning out for a second as you enjoyed this moment of glory while staring out at the crowd in front of you.

Then, suddenly, you heard the pops of bottles. You could barely set down your trophy before your face was covered in champagne.

“Charles,” You gasped.

Barely able to breathe, you tried to cover your face with your cap. It was no use, however; the champagne was already pricking in your eyes as you blindly tried to push Charles away. When the other men on the podium targeted him, you used the moment to pop your own bottle of champagne. Of course, your goal was to completely douse Charles as payback, but he was quick to flee. Before you got the chance to properly drench him, it was already time for the podium picture. Charles grinned at you mischievously from his spot next to you. “You look good in victory champagne,” he teased.

You glared at him jokingly. You were certain that you looked ridiculous with your cap askew and your clothes completely soaked in champagne, not to mention the mascara that was probably running down your face. You rolled your eyes at his comment, but couldn’t help the laugh that escaped.

“Thanks, I think.”

He laughed with you, a gleeful look on his face.

“How about we go out for a celebratory drink?” He asked with a gentle smile.

You noticed the more serious tone in his voice straight away. His expression was one you didn’t recognise; he seemed almost insecure.

Raising an eyebrow, you couldn’t resist teasing him.

“Are you asking me out, Charles?”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well, yeah. I guess I am. What do you say?”

You laughed again, before nodding your head.

“A drink sounds good.”

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junplusone · 5 months ago

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seventeen as engineering majors

notes: hi i have nothing to say for myself except this is partially @imujings's fault and also my self indulgence so here we go (can you tell what my major is..... lol)

warnings: ehh swearing, i namedrop companies, eng jargon

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL - civil engineering

if you know, you know

is very proud of his program despite all the jokes (he shouldn't be) sorry im biased

"we're better than the meches"

never had to take dynamics in his LIFE omg

100% has a poster of the golden gate bridge on his wall and gets made fun of for it

is convinced one day when he's making bank and jeonghan is jobless he'll finally be vindicated

YOON JEONGHAN - mechanical engineering

did have to take dynamics & almost failed it

(he's smart, he was just too lazy to submit any of the homework that was also worth 60% of his grade)

gets salty at career fairs when most of the employers are construction companies

competing with the 24853874534 other meches for class sections

leaning into the "jack of all trades master of ????"

has a superiority complex over the aeros

HONG JOSHUA - computer engineering

should have just been a cs major tbh

compe is the bottom of the engineering food chain

but nobody has the heart to tell him that bc he's too kind

hangs out with the likes of yoon jeonghan but still never skips class

wants to create his own video game

probably got an internship at a fortune 100 company

has hella connections and WILL ask them to nepo you too bc he's that nice

WEN JUNHUI - aerospace engineering

has had enough of the lockheed martin jokes

does NOT !!! wanna work in defense he's a sustainable fuel guy

spacecraft development companies pleaseeee hire him

lets the meches have beef w him bc he dgaf what they think, but gets annoyed when they start competing w him for jobs

sidequest king (double minor in math & ecology AND he wants to try his hand at law school???? wtf)

locks in so freaking hard when he has to but is just silly otherwise - he's that student you never see studying but then they ace the exam

KWON SOONYOUNG - chemical engineering

is the one making lockheed martin jokes in front of junhui

but definitely picked cheme because someone told him he can make bombs

had to retake orgo twice but then passed inorganic chemistry with flying colors

academic wild card #1

always ends up with 8:30s bc he never wakes up on time for class registration

#1 merck worshipper pls hire him omg

LEE JIHOON - computer engineering

is at the bottom of the engineering food chain, but unlike joshua he knows & owns it

is a cs minor so it's slightly more excusable

probably has hella shit on github

definitely following more companies on linkedin than he has connections

double major in music production & plays clarinet in the pep band

you will never see him without his headphones on

JEON WONWOO - electrical engineering

actually very strongly dislikes that electrical & comp are grouped together as ece

likes the versatility of his major

probably never had a single morning class in his life

def came into college proficient in a bunch of programming languages

sits at the back of the lecture hall

never ever studies outside of his dorm bc he likes using his huge desk monitor

KIM MINGYU - biomedical engineering

so sick of every single person he meets assuming he's a premed student

has definitely accidentally broken flasks in his bio lab

was so elated when he found out orgo isn't a graduation requirement

always ALWAYS studies w a whiteboard

is one of the only guys in bme

you can always find him cooking up some food in the dorm's communal kitchen, he's always down for a conversation

LEE SEOKMIN - environmental engineering

minor in sustainability, he's an environmentally conscious sweetie pie!

the dream project groupmate

is one of like 15 people in his graduating class

wants to research water treatment technologies

"did you know using chatgpt is harmful to the environment?"

and he's right !!!!

took organic chemistry for fun and aced it even though mingyu warned him it would tank his gpa

XU MINGHAO - chemical engineering

really wants to work in the fragrance industry

always smells good, you'll never catch him lacking

another one of those people where you don't see them study ever but they still coast through classes

gets distracted when he's drawing out chemical compounds bc he tries too hard to get the lines perfect

and then starts sketching something else

second most nastiest side eye

BOO SEUNGKWAN - industrial & systems engineering

y'all know this man did not wanna do any work (jk i love my ise majors)

business admin double major & he's reaaaally good at it

everyone's jealous of the way he charms all the employers at the career fair how do u even do that like???

very intelligent but hated every calc class he had to take

always studies in the business building

nastiest side eye EVERRRRRR do not say anything stupid in front of him please he will vaporize you

CHWE HANSOL - materials science & engineering

walter white in the making

declared a chemistry minor and then never took the required classes

really enjoyed crystal chem

profs have a hard time grading his hw cause his handwriting lowkey looks like chicken scratches

the absolute chillest during finals week but nobody knows if it's because he studied way in advance or because he didn't study at all

academic wild card #2

such an 'it is what it is' guy tbh...

LEE CHAN - packaging engineering

ppl look confused when he tells them his major

is in it for the near 100% job placement

has a great time in all of his classes because they're so fun and the class size is like 8 kids

doesn't fully know what he wants to do later in life but he'll figure it out later

carpe diem kinda guy

wants to intern at a cosmetics company really really bad so he can take sample products home to his mom

let me know if u enjoyed this hehe :)

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ladyloveandjustice · 6 months ago

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Fall 2024 Anime Overview: Magilumiere Magical Girls Inc.

Premise: Monsters called Kai are threatening ordinary people, and only magical girls can stop them. However, being a magical girl is no longer the domain of teenagers, and has evolved into an actual career dominated by adult women. Companies employ magical girls and send them out to exterminate Kai. Kana is having a hard time getting her first job. But when she ends up helping out a magical girl, she’s invited to become one for a small, scrappy company. There’s a lot for Kana to learn…

This was my favorite magical girl show of the Fall 2024 season- and how amazing is it we had three new ones for once! There's a lot to love about Magilumiere! For one thing, it gave me something I always crave: Adult magical girls (or magical women, though they’re called magical girls in this show). Much like how classic mahou shoujo often explores the struggles adolescence and growing up, this show uses mahou shoujo as a way to explore what it’s like to be a young woman entering the working world. Kana struggles to grow her confidence and adjust to her new job, but with the encouragement of her boss and co-workers, she discovers her own talents.

All of the magical ladies are pretty fun, with my favorite being Hitomi Koshigaya, Kana’s senpai in the work place. She’s a brash and raucous woman who loves kicking ass with shit-eating grin, she only ever wears tracksuits when she’s not on the job, she talks like a delinquent, bursts with confidence, and she’s very protective and sweet towards Kana. Basically, she’s goals, everything I love about soft hearted delinquent girls only she’s actually a grown woman this time! Wow!

But we also get introductions to plenty of other cool magical ladies, all who approach their jobs in a different way where they can learn from each other.And the women are always treated respectfully, visually and by the narrative. No jarring objectification or anything like that.

The show has a bit more of a focus on men than you’d expect, since while the magical girls fight on the front lines, Magilumiere’s engineer/tech support team are men, and the boss and his mysterious backstory is a big part of the show. However, they’re all good characters! And the show does still put a big focus on women, exploring their relationships, their development, and all the cool magical girl fights they can get into. It is so nice to see some hype magical lady fights, and rather than the unfortunate animation poor Acro Trip got, this show does pretty well with its visuals and fight scenes. The story especially lot of fun with the transformation sequences, and I love to see it.

The show also has a lot to say about corporate world, and it feels like it’s only getting started on that. From the beginning, it makes sure to contrast the way Magilumiere operates from the more cutthroat business of larger companies. The company’s boss, Kouji Shigemoto, was previously a partner in a much larger business, but seems to have left because how they were doing things didn’t jive with his ideals, and now he’s in charge of start-up where he's very focused on the best possible experience for both his employees and customers. He’s contrasted to his previous partner, who’s gone on to grow a big company that only cares about efficiency and the bottom line. His old friend doesn’t care about property damage or the feelings of the people who need help, just getting it done quickly and going on to the next job. He fires his employees casually, and doesn’t seem to care about them.

Meanwhile, Shigemoto is a very encouraging presence in his company, who checks in with his employees, talks to them, supports them, and really respects their input. Magilumiere makes a point of avoiding property damage and finding ways to help the customer, even if it’s a lot more trouble. He describes himself as wanting to “protect” peaceful moments where they can just hang out and have fun. It may come off as being a little too worshipful of start ups, but I don’t think it’s trying to say all startups are like this. Shigemoto started his with the specific goal of being kinder to his employees and being true to his ideals, and that’s not a thing that applies to all startups.

It's not saying anything groundbreaking so far, like it’s definitely not deeply questioning the hellscape of capitalism right now, but the message is nice, and I’m interested in seeing where it goes. The fact magical girls are privatized despite providing a life saving service is interesting, and I wonder if the show’s going to touch on this too, since it’s been implied there’s a grim origin involved. And then there's lots of a little jokes about tech companies too. The fact the magical women suck monsters up into flash drives after defeating them is honestly so funny.

The story also gives some brief shout outs to struggles real women face in the workplace—it’s mentioned there’s people on not-Twitter who mock magical girls for being “old” and just seem to want to harass and criticize them. But this hadn't really been explored in depth so far, which I’d like to see from the show. It would also be nice to see exploration of gender on the tech side of things--- like in the real world, it’s really notably male dominated. We’ve gotten some focus on one woman CEO and one girl engineer, but the gender imbalance is very much there.

The show disappointed very slightly by briefly throwing out that men’s magic is “too aggressive” (whatever that means?) and that’s why it’s all magical girls, which is a too-common gender essentialist explanation for women dominating a fantasy action story (see: Claymore) that has weird implications. Why can’t a lot of girls just be really good at magic? Why can’t it just happen to be a female dominated career but there are some magical boys? (And the fact the the explanation has to be like, guys are just TOO strong, TOO cool, TOO manly is like. lmao okay.) But it is a throwaway line that doesn’t ever come up again (and it does at least frame it as a ‘mystery’ they might figure out someday).

That brings me to an issue that may be uncomfortable for some viewers- Shigemoto wears a magical girl outfit while he’s working, and when he’s introduced the angle and vibe is intimidating and Kana reacts in shock and possibly fear, possibly playing into transphobic stereotypes. The next episode, however, makes it clear she’s specifically be shocked that it’s a middle aged man wearing “cosplay” at work rather than ever saying it’s the dress, the other employees are chill about it, Kana gets used to it, and the narrative moves on pretty quickly.

However it comes up in a minor way a couple more times, with Kana saying she's surprised Koshigaya worked there after seeing the boss dressed like that (Koshigaya’s response being ‘hey you decided to too! People in this company are interesting, aren’t they?’). Another magical girl doesn’t seem put off by it at all, but immediately assumes it’s business related. It is implied there’s some sort of work related origin for his cosplay and it's possibly tragic, but he does definitely enjoys the clothing (and has a nice skincare routine) and the male characters are always 100% supportive, with one of them particular often discussing fashion with him, if there should be more ribbons etc.

So yeah, YMMV over whether it crosses over into transphobia (or edges into it) but I’ve definitely seen way worse. I feel the series is mostly supportive even if it’s like “hahaha it’s a little weird right!” it’s not outright mean to him about it (imo).

The pacing may be a little slow sometimes, really wanting to cover every moment of the manga, but it’s always a good time, and there’s plenty of hype moments. The concept is so interesting and has so much potential, and I feel like the show is running with it.

The show has been unfortunately been confined to Amazon Prime, where a lot of people probably missed it, but it seems to be doing well in Japan and a second seasons already been announced, to my delight!

Over all, if you’re a magical girl fan or are just interested in a good show that explores magi-tech, working adult issues, and has some cool ladies fighting and bonding, I really recommend this one.

#magilumiere magical girls inc.#magilumiere co. ltd.#kabushiki gaisha magilumiere #mahou shoujo #magical girl #magical girls #kana sakuragi #sakuragi kana #hitomi koshigaya #koshigaya hitomi #kouji shigemoto #shigemoto kouji #fall 2024 anime #anime #anime overview #my reviews #anime review #reviews #long post

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eyneyke · 7 months ago

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Sam simps

Pairing: Max Verstappen x PewDiePie!sibling Summary: What if Felix had a genius brother who works as a RedBull's engineer and is also secretly dating Max part 2 of A Calm to my Storm Masterlist

Sam develops a fan base

During another one of PewDiePie’s famous Q&A live streams, just a week after the last one, a question popped up that made Felix chuckle. He leaned forward in his chair, reading the comment aloud.

“Pewds, how did your brother even end up editing your videos?”

Felix laughed. “Oh, you guys don’t know the half of it. My brother, Sam, didn't even watch my videos. Like, at all. He knew I was doing YouTube, but he didn’t care enough to watch—until one day, he randomly clicked on one of my videos and just—he called me and he wouldn’t stop going on and on about how bad the quality of my videos was.”

Felix rolled his eyes dramatically, leaning back in his chair. “He wouldn’t shut up about the lighting, the editing, the camera angles. Everything. He kept saying, ‘Felix, how can you have millions of subscribers, but your videos look like this?’ So I dared him—I straight up told him, ‘Fine, if you think you can do better, then go ahead.’”

He smirked at the camera. “And the guy went full-on into it. Like, he gave me a new camera, set it all up, even agreed to be my cameraman when I needed one. He edited a few videos for me, and honestly, they were good. So I had to admit, he did a great job, and I decided to, you know... keep him around.”

Felix winked at the camera. “Best decision I’ve ever made.”

As he finished explaining, the chat began spamming requests for another appearance from Sam. People were practically begging for another sneak peek.

“Show Sam again!” Felix read aloud, rolling his eyes with a grin. “Please, we need more Sam." Alright, alright… you guys are ridiculous.

With that, he stood up, the livestream still running, and bolted out of his chair, just like the last time. “Let’s go see what Sam’s up to.”

The camera jostled as Felix rushed out of his apartment and sprinted down the street toward Sam’s place again. Thank God he had keys to Sam's apartment. He pushed open Sam’s door like he owned the place, not even bothering to knock.

“Sam! The bros wanna see you again!” Felix called out as he wandered inside.

From down the hallway, a muffled voice replied, “I’m in the bathroom, Felix. Don’t—”

Felix, of course, didn’t listen. He headed straight for the bathroom, swinging the door open. And there was Sam, caught red-handed in front of the mirror, his hair full of dark red dye ready to be washed off. Sam turned, glaring at Felix.

“Dude!” Sam groaned, shoving his brother out of the bathroom. “Can you not? I’m busy.”

Felix freaked out, still recording. “Why are you dying your hair? What are you doing?!”

Sam just rolled his eyes, smirked and pushed Felix back into the hallway. “Either wait in the living room or go back to your place, alright? I’ll be out in a minute.” Then he closed the bathroom door into Felix's face.

Felix stood there in mock shock, but eventually headed to the living room, still chatting with his fans. “You see how he treats me, right? This is the thanks I get for boosting his editing career.”

He sat down on Sam’s couch, answering a few more questions while waiting. The comments were already going wild, talking about how Pewds just casually let himself into Sam’s flat without a second thought.

After a few minutes, Sam finally emerged from the bathroom, his hair now dark red(see- Crowley from Good Omens or that Caleb teenager from his sister's iNstagram, iykyk). Felix looked up, giving him a once-over before nodding in approval.

“Okay, I’m not gonna lie,” Felix admitted, “that actually doesn’t look bad. You kind of rock the red hair.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, shrugging. “Thanks, I guess.”

But Felix noticed the comments flooding in again, this time more intense than ever.

The chat was in full freak-out mode:

User1: “OMG SAM IS SO HOT WITH RED HAIR!!”

User2: “Sam >>> Felix, sorry not sorry.”

User3: “Felix, we love you but… your brother is kinda chef’s kiss.”

Felix gave the camera a look of fake betrayal. “Wow, you guys are just here for Sam now, huh? What am I, chopped liver?”

He stood up dramatically, still holding the camera, and headed for the door. “I see how it is. Fine, I’ll just leave. You can all have Sam.”

Sam, standing there completely confused, watched as Felix walked out of his apartment without another word.

“Wait, what just happened?” Sam called after him, but Felix was already out the door, heading back to his place. “Okay, then. I guess I'll see you for dinner.”

As Felix ended the stream back in his own apartment, the comments continued to roll in, people laughing about how he just let himself into Sam’s flat like it was no big deal. And, of course, how Sam had suddenly become everyone’s favourite.

Felix glanced at the chat one last time, shaking his head with a grin. “You guys really know how to betray a guy, huh?”

#fanfic #jacksepticeye #max verstappen #max verstappen x male reader #pewdiepie #pewdiepie x brother!reader #max verstappen x reader #pewdiepie x sibling!reader #writing #funny #f1 fanfic #Formula 1

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missyxxxxx · 2 years ago

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Legends Are Made | Lewis Hamilton x Female Reader

Summary : 9 months after Ayrton Senna's fatal crash , Y/N Senna Da Silva was born in Rome , Italy and was defined by destiny carrying the same talent as her father's . At the very young age of 2 Y/N developed an interest upon her father's job and then entered the fascinating world of F1 . Growing up and moving from F3 to F2 her dream to bring back her father's legacy seemed to finally come true , when she joined the Mercedes AMG Petronas team , becoming the first woman on the F1 grid . What she did not expect was that she would fall in love with an 5 times world time F1 champion , Lewis Hamilton .

TW : Mentions and descriptions of Ayrton Senna's fatal crash from the autopsy , Max is super mean upon the reader ( Red Bull is an absolute shit in this ) , anxiety and panick attacks , a lot of angst(y feeling's ) , tears ( both of sadness and happiness ) , Ayrton visit's the reader ( I was crying when I wrote this ) , but extreme fluff towards the end .

This idea came up to me back in May 1 of this year , and while I was listening to the song above Legends Are Made by Sam Tinnesz , I could not help myself and think of all the things that could have happened if Ayrton had a daughter with the same talent . After 3 months working on this I finally finished it .

Just remember that English is not my first language , so if you spot any mistakes just bare with me . ( It is a tw on it's own ) .

PS : I do not usually pour my entire heart and soul on every imagine that I write , but I actually did in this one - and I am proud of it - I hope you like it . I was literally crying the whole time .

Edit : Still crying .

19k words - i got reallyy away with this one

______________________________________________________________

May , 1 1994 Imola , Italy - San Marino Grand Prix

Lap 7 . . . the car left the racing line at Tamburello and ran in a straight line off the track and struck an unprotected concrete barrier .

He tried to brake down .

He really did .

The car hit the wall at a shallow angle, tearing off the right front wheel and nose cone with 211 km/h .

" Ayrton Senna crashed after the Tamburello corner and smashed with the barrier . Red Flag . The safety car is on it's way . We may need an ambulance for this . " The presenter said with an anxious tone in his voice .

Ayrton tried moving his head but the pain was insufferable .

After that he lost his vision and everything turned black .

" Ayrton Senna Da Silva , a truly staggering talent is dead at the age of 34 years old , after crashing his W16 on the concrete barrier . We lost without any doubt one of the best or maybe the best F1 racing driver." The same presenter said after a couple of hours after the incident .

Ayrton Senna Da Silva - your father - was dead .

_____

January 8th 1995 , Rome , Italy

It was a sunny but cold day when your mother gave birth to you .

Y/N Senna Da Silva . . . the one and only daughter of the F1 champion Ayrton Senna .

You did not know it yet but you would grow up without your dad .

Although you carried something very special within your heart .

His talent was passed over to you , something that your mother tried desperately to avoid .

At the young age of 2 , after watching for the first time a F1 race , one of your dad's , you could not help but wonder about all these fast cars that were racing in big circles .

You were amazed by the colors and the sounds of the engine's .

Your mother did everything in her power to keep you away from F1 and she thought she had succeeded , until one day when she picked you up from the Kindergarten you were crying and sniffling your nose.

When she asked you what happened the only answer you could give was more tears and the phrase " The other kids say that I don't have a dad , because he left me . "

That phrase still keeps you and your mother awake at night .

After that incident she decided to show you one of your father's races.

You loved it .

Little did she know that you had the same talent as your father and she could not keep you away from it .

After a couple of months , you entered the F1 worlds by going into karting .

_____

By the time you were 15 years old , you were able to perfectly drive a F3 car . Your coach said that it would be too easy for you to move from karting to F3 and then F2 .

" You are just like your father . " Your mother said to you on your first big crash .

You had a few big scratches but nothing that could stop you from raicing .

" What do you mean ? " You asked her back trying to convince your mother on telling you more .

After a few hours of you talking you found out more information about your father's tragic death .

" I saw it live on the TV . He was motionless . He had so many injuries ih his head . There was so much blood . You could see it from afar . Thereafter he did not move again . He called me before the race saying that he had a feeling , that something bad will happen to him."

" How ironic " She thought .

__________

' The resemblance is almost scary . ' You thought while you were looking at your debut photo , that the Mercedes AMG Petronas team had published .

It was 100 % sure that you were your father's daughter .

You had the exact same curls at the end of your hair , big honey color doe eyes , that cute little nose and those same full dark pink lips .

You even had the same stance .

Same fashion style . Heck even some clothes of his where now on your closet .

You were practically the same .

But you were not on the same F1 team .

While your father had the best time in McLaren , you joined the Mercedes AMG Petronas team in 2015 .

Being 25 years old you became the youngest amongst everyone , but what made it even worse is that you were the first woman on the F1 grid .

The night before your first public appearance you couldn't sleep .

You were worried and anxious .

Thinking about people's opinions made it even worse that it already was .

Getting up you decided to go to the kitchen at take those sleeping pills your doctor prescribed for you .

And before you knew it you entered the dream space - or so you thought .

" You know that you can not go on like this for long right ? " A man's voice spoke from your left side of the bed .

A voice you have heard before but can not pinpoint exactly where .

" This is not a dream Y/N you can answer me . "

Y/N .

He knows my name .

' I know his voice . ' You thought .

And then it hit you right in the face .

" Dad ? " You asked tears on your face while you where slowly turning to his direction .

He smiled .

He smiled to you .

Your dad smiled to you .

Suddenly you felt someone embracing you - a soft kiss on your forehead .

You hugged him back .

Your dad was here - hugging you and telling you he loves you .

" I am always with you , you are safe . " He told you .

By now you were crying uncontrollably .

" I love you so much Y/N . "

" Do not leave me alone dad . Please . " You begged him through sobs.

" Never Y/N . I love you ." He said to you one last time before you fell asleep .

And he was right .

He never left your side .

You woke up after 8 hours of sleeping , with his cross on your nightstand beside the photo you had of him .

You were safe .

__________

One year had passed since you first saw your father for the first time .

Everything was going great with the team - almost .

You and Lewis Hamilton were practically best friends by now .

' The best duo on the whole grid ' . Everyone said .

Fans going crazy on Twitter shiping both of you .

You had become great friends with Daniel Riccardo and Carlos Sainz.

You had a good relationship with Fernando Alonso and Perez although you did not talk much , but you respected each other .

You and Valtteri Bottas became buddy's through Tiffany and you had the best time pranking Lewis .

Sebastian Vettel was something else entirely .

He respected you and helped you in any way possible . Being the oldest one in the grid helping others with his own ways , made him the father of the grid .

The only one who did not speak to you was Verstappen .

Max Verstappen .

He looked at you with such hate .

Did not talk at you .

Even when you had to sit net to him in interviews he always switched seats with somebody else .

Atleast you were thankful that nothing ever happened .

__________

Two years had passed by .

The best two years of your life .

Your relationship with Lewis was stronger than before .

At least that's what you thought from your part .

You liked him .

Actually you liked him even more than a friend .

God you even loved him at this point .

But you desided to keep it to yourself , not wanting to mess up your frienship or even worse jeopardize your partnership .

Valtteri joined Mercedes and for once you though that they would ask you to transfer , but Toto Wolff would never do it . Especially after watching you getting close to Susie an having the best time babysitting their kids .

In the Brazilian GP of 2017 you finished first place earning the respect of Kimi Raikkonen and becoming close buddy's .

You were always sending food posts and memes in each other and you even died from laughter when you first watched Jackass while babysitting his kids .

Everything was going great until the Abu Dhabi GP .

Valtteri finished first , Lewis second , Sebastian third , Kimi fourth , you fifth and in the sixth place Max .

You had overtake him in last possible minute earning your place in your father's hometown - something that Max did not like at all and decided to make it show in the press conference later .

__________

" My name is Joseph from the F1 Magazine and my question is for Miss Y/N Senna . Y/N you were so good today and I am a 100 % that next year you will win the Championship . I can not help but wonder though and it is something that a lot of people are asking - today you came in the grid with some of your father's clothes . Is there a particular reason ? " He asked you .

" I actually do it all the time since some of his clothes fit me and I believe that he had the best style back then and since now Lewis has stolen that place I need to bring it back . " You answered smiling and making a little joke about Lewis that alot of people loved .

Especially him .

" That is great . My next question is for everyone and it is about what cars do you drive . Can we start with Mr . Vettel . " The interviewer asked with a smile .

" Well I have a Golf . " Carlos said and everybody laughed .

" And you Max ? " The guy asked him .

" I drive a Ferrari , not like someone else that drives a Golf or an almost 30 year old car . " Max said hating on Carlos and you .

You drove your father's famous red Honda NSX and actually own a really big percentage of the Honda NSX cars and you were extremely proud about it .

" Okay . See you on Twitter . " Carlos said know full well that Max is going to get so many new haters .

Sebastian was not proud , Kimi was laughing at Max's stupidity , Daniel was embarrassed and Lewis was furious .

" Y/N what do you have to say about this ? " The guy named Joseph asked you .

" First of all I agree with Carlos and second I am proud of driving such a car . Actually you can ask Mr. Mibe the CEO of Honda and he can assure you that my 30 year old Honda's are far more better that just a plain Ferrari . Thank you . " You answered making everyone in the room speechless .

" Well I totally agree . " Sebastian said laughing .

" She owns the division of the Honda Acura , she can buy all the Ferrari's he owns and plenty more . " Kimi said making everyone speechless again .

Carlos was right , because Twitter was going wild after the press conference was published .

__________

To say that you were mentally drained was a statement .

You were currently crying your eyes out .

Lewis and his dog Roscoe were on your side .

" I just wished the season didn't end like this . " You said while Lewis was hugging you .

" It's okay silly , everyone is on your side . Look even Kimi talked after a really long time . " Lewis said and you both laughed .

Suddenly you were both looking at each other in the eyes and before you noticed it Lewis had capped your face in his palms and pressed his lips at you .

You were so shocked that you did not realize that you had not kissed him back .

Your unresponsiveness made him believe that he was getting wrong .

'' I am so sorry Y/N I kno that you did- " Lewis said but you interupted him .

" Why did you stop ? " You asked him making him froze in his tracks .

It is safe to say that he kissed you back again something that went on about hours and hours on end until Roscoe got jealous of it and started to bark in your faces .

You stayed in Lewis hands for a while , until a scared Toto stormed inside the room .

" Next GP ? Imola , San Marino circuit . " He announced for both of you to hear , but was looking directly at you .

Imola , San Marino - where your father had lost his life .

__________

May , 1 2018 Imola , Italy - San Marino Grand Prix

"Today's atmosphere is heavy . We are in San Marino , Imola circuit where Ayrton Senna lost his life . Now we are waiting for the race to start as we have Y/N Senna Da Silva driving for the Mercedes AMG Petronas team . Toto Wolff specifically asked for the press to not be outside of the Mercedes pit . Y/N is already anxious and worried enough . We hope and pray for the best . In my opinion she is the best driver of this generation . " The same presenter that witnessed your father's death , spoke about you .

' 5 minutes till the race start's ' . You said to yourself .

You were inside your car , wearing your father's famous yellow helmet, his cross on your neck inside of your clothes .

Lewis had begged you not to do it .

Daniel and Carlos were totally afraid .

Kimi had retired .

Sebastian knew that it was dangerous but you wouldn't badge .

Your boyfriend - Lewis - was looking at you , pleading you with his eyes from his car to not do it .

Valtteri did not intervene .

You started from P4 , Sebastian in P3 , Valtteri in P2 and Lewis in P1 .

And the race started .

__________

You don't know how many laps you had done , you weren't counting them .

Everytime you approached the Tamburello racing line until you pass it , your heart was dropping on your stomach , you had trouble breathing .

You were thinking of him .

You thinking about your father .

Your mind was your enemy at this point telling you to 'look at the corner' .

You heart your companion was telling you 'do not look at the corner' .

'What if I lose control of the car and smash into the barier ? '

' What if I die ? '

' Mom is going to be devastated . '

'Lewis . . . oh my Lewis . . . '

' What if ? '

But despite your heart telling you to not look at the corner near the racin line in Tamburello , you did it and what you saw made everything stop .

__________

It is like you were watching the scene unfold it's self from afar .

You were back in 1994 .

Your car was on the other side of the road parked - you standing at the side of it .

Suddenly your father's car ran off the track and was struck an unprotected concrete barrier at 211km/h .

You could hear everything .

You could see everything .

You could smell everything .

Blood -

Your father's blood -

Tears streamed on your face like falls , your hands trembling while you were running to your father to save him .

But Death was far more powerful .

Before you could go and grab him , a hand engulfed your right wrist .

Your dad was standing besides you - his unconscious body still inside the car .

You started panicking , blindness covering your eyes - head dizzy .

" Y/N breath for me come on honey listen to me . " Your dad instructed you .

Trying to concentrate on your father's voice , you did not see his body getting lift out ofthe car , bones broken , blood everywhere .

After a while your father took you back to the side of your car , watching himself being lifted into a helicopter .

" What was the last thing you felt ? " You asked him .

" The taste of blood in my mouth and pain . " He answered calmly .

" I love you dad . " You said to him and hugged him again searching for his embrace .

You cried again .

" I love you too . Stop unsettling your mind with uneasy thoughts and go finish that race . Okay champion ? " Your father said to you before placing a soft kiss on your forehead .

Suddenly you were inside you car racing at 211km/h passing the Tamburello racing line - with your father's voice saying that he loves you watching him with tears in your eyes waiving at you from the corner .

__________

" AND Y/N SENNA DA SILVA IS THE WINNER OF THE IMOLA GRAND PRIX AND THE F1 WORLD CHAMPION OF 2018 " . The presenter scream in his microphone when your car overtook Sebastian's and finished in 1st place .

Your team was screaming , but all you could see and hear was your father saying ' I love you ' and ' I am so proud of you ' .

Only when Lewis hand landed on your shoulder you looked up - at him with tears in your red eyed from crying .

He helped you to get out of your car , took of your helmet and your balaclava , staring at you .

He grabbed your face - " What happened love ? " He asked you .

" I saw everything Lewis . I saw my dad . "

__________

You were currently standing with the Brazilisn flag on your shoulders , trophy on your hands , closed eys and head looking up , while everyone - even the fans - were all silent .

After you rised for your national anthem you asked for a minute of silence for your father .

The wind was blowing - and when something made you shiver but feel safe at the same time - you knew that your father was sitting besides you .

After one minute tears of happiness fell from your eyes .

__________

2023

You are now 28 years old , married with Lewis from 2019 with one beautiful baby boy .

You were still racing .

But today was a special day .

It was your son's birtand he was turning 3 years old .

You've desided with Lewis to go and wake him up , since you've prepared his favourite breakfast and after you would let him open his gifts .

" Goodmorning Ayrton Happy Birthday honey " You both said to your son to wake him up .

Mom's and Dad's and Thank you's could be heard all over the apartment as your son was driving his toy car around the house while holding a cookie .

Chocolate was plastered all over his face .

You were both happy smiling at him .

And then suddenly you heard your son screaming in the leaving room-

" I woak up in a new Ferrari . "

" I swear I am going to kill Carlos and Charles the moment I see them." Lewis said to you while you were uncontrollably laughing .

--------------------

@unimportantbabymilksharkte

@k----a27s

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x oc #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you

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ceaselessbasher · 1 year ago

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During this meeting I've gone through the following stages:

Time to say my two cents! I can make a difference!

*opens glassdoor*

What am I doing, the job market is shit, I can't quit just because I feel like my boss doesn't know what he's doing, no bosses know what they are doing and tech companies are full of Big Idea Bros who bite off more than they can chew. Quitting and going through the horrors of finding a new job won't make everything better.

.................

*opens glassdoor, indeed, linkedin and my CV while holding back angry tears*

meeting so bad and makes me so angry i open glassdoor

#i was hired as a frontend developer. recently i've been used as an AI engineer (not my area!!)#now he wants to hire an external front end consultancy because he put his engineer in the AI bullshit!!! that's my goddamn job!!!!#mogologue

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bigbandithewada · 6 months ago

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Feeling like putting down my find so here is

JV/Ant Davidson Timeline

(Can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on all info, can’t guarantee no bias no projection, not using there full names because guess what, so less info about them together if you google their names together my blog appears on the 1st page)

JV was raised in Switzerland. Did math and computer science in Switzerland. He found out he needed an engineer background to enter F1 so went back to England to get a master in that. Got to work at BAR(later Honda, Brawn, Merc) eventually. (He had a billion interview on him hustling his way to BAR but that’s not relevant to the story here)

Ant was raised in a middle class family. Went to Karting with brother and he was more interested and started to compete in Karting. He worked his way to Formula Ford and was lucky to get a sponsorship( the sponsor bought a house and let him lived there). His sponsor talked to him about career choice, at that time, test driver made a decent amount of money and that f1 seat seems a bit too distant. So Ant ended up in BAR around the same time as JV

Well JV was not that much of an engineering guy. His job going into Honda was a combination of some data analysis, coordination between departments and some engineer. There was no proper strategist job back in the days so he just bounced around. (The untold interview he said he was suppose to fix an electronic problem on the front wing, Evan Short ended up doing that. Not saying that he knew nothing but inferring from his other interview, he definitely needed help). (Even now strategist have “low” status in the team since only the principal strategist can go to the track and everyone back home’s job is make sure to feed enough info through TR that the principal’s eyes are always on track).

Meanwhile, Ant was doing amazing as a test driver, too amazing that Honda was reluctant to release him to do actual f1 racing. He missed a seat(which team I forgot) but Honda eventually agreed to let him race for Super Aguri in 2007. That team didn’t last.

Then came the Brawn year. Before 2009, JV and Ant were already starting to worry about their jobs and registered a company together. Company never took off because here comes Brawn GP.

After the championship, our champ Jenson was scheduled to do victory laps in the factory for the fans but he already buggered off to McLaren. Ant did the laps and JV was his engineer for that.

Then came the Merc years.

Ant was doing a bunch of different things then: racing in WEC, driving the Merc simulator and later became a sky sport host. Ant missed the chance of winning a championship(he also missed a podium due to bad luck in 2007) but he got one eventually. When Alonso returned to F1, Ant interviewed him asking if Alonso remembered them racing against each other in WEC, Alonso did not remember. Ant also did Jenson’s retirement interview. Ant also did some interview later saying he was too nice to be competing in this shark tank of f1, nice guy can’t win races.

JV was doing a bunch of different things in Merc as well. He was in charge of simulator, junior team, esport team and development data analysis software for premier league(honorable mention: he wrote the drivers code of conduct in 2016 to prevent Lewis and Nico fighting). Ant was a reliable simulator driver, JV was working a lot with Ant at that time(JV didn’t need to be present for the crowd strike thing but he was there…) (Also they Merc’s equipment to tune cars for their friend’s Karting league, naughty boys). I want to believe JV cares about drivers he works with, especially junior team (he went up to hug Esteban Ocon(Merc junior driver) after his 2021 Hungarian gp win(Merc strategy was a disaster that race)

Ant said JV is one of his best friends. He phoned JV a lot during the Honda and Brawn years. Ant also texted JV to ask for technical details when he started to comment for Sky( Ant joked in 2023 pre season test that JV is getting to busy with his TP job to reply to his texts). JV also bugged Ant for a VIP pass during Ant’s LeMans years. JV had spent time with Ant’s family doing barbecue for JV’s birthday. JV is Ant’s kids’ god father.

Projection time: Brawn and Merc years treated JV so well he probably is a bit idealist about things now. The stuff he said at Williams make sense if your work experience is a streak of championships. JV will probably never get a reality check so hard the way Ant exit F1(divorce? Idw). Knowing they are good friends make me happy.

(Some source from Ant’s deleted twitter account)

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scuderia-hamilton · 1 month ago

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i seriously do not get lando fans... first it was "miami is his track, piastri better watch out because lando is going to win by over 10 seconds" then lando ends up behind him. now imola it's the same? what happens if piastri beats him then? will lando finally show up in monaco? spain? he'll definitely be showing up in comporta/portugal (iykyk) people are also forgetting that oscar scored the most points out of everyone in the european leg last year. he would've started ahead of lando last year in imola if he didn't get a 3-place grid penalty for impeding (which kinda not his fault bc his engineer should've warned him like he usually does) it's almost like people are trying to run an underdog gimmick on lando with all these "oh well he had a good drive from p10 to p4" or "he did good from p6 to p3"... and how did he end up there? can you tell me?

a lot of the stuff they're saying in support of him actually doesn't help him at all. their opinions are extremely contradictory and change race after race to fit their narrative.

first they said that McLaren is prioritizing Oscar, but Lando is the no.1 driver, although being the first driver means that you get actively prioritized over your teammate. so, by that logic they're both number one drivers.

then they said that McLaren is sabotaging Lando because they built the car to fit Oscar's driving style, which is not how it works and they'd know that, if they'd actually care about the sport. the engineers' jobs is to build the fastest car, the drivers' jobs is to adapt to that and bring out the maximum performance from the car. there is a difference between changing the set up to make the driver more comfortable and designing an entire car for a specific driver, and i fear many people don't understand that.

then their most recent excuse is that Lando somehow built the entire car with his own two hands from scratch (in his Nara Smith era) and because he's been at the team longer than Oscar, he "deserves" to win more. being loyal to a team doesn't get you wins, it doesn't make you more deserving than any of the other 19 drivers. drivers don't build cars. their feedback is important and can help make the car better and to develop it in the right direction, but all the credit goes to the engineers. (it's also very discrediting to say that and diminishes the hard work of the people who ACTUALLY built the car, but this is a conversation for another day).

also let's think for a second.... Lando has been there since 2019, if his feedback and insight is really so crucial when it comes to the performance of the car, why wasn't the McLaren competitive ever since he joined? if the drivers' feedbacks are really that important than Oscar built that car as much Lando did. you could even argue that his insights were even more crucial because the McLaren started becoming as competitive as it is right now after 2023, a year after Oscar joined. i'm not saying this is the truth, just trying to prove how their arguments don't make any sense logically.

i don't know why it's so hard for them to admit that currently Lando's not performing to the level that was expected of him. he's making mistake after mistake and as he said multiple times as well, he's just not in tune with the car. sure, fighting your way from the back of the field to the front is impressive and a great skill to have, but consistently qualifying at the front is even better. i have no problem admitting that Lando was the better driver in 2023. 2024 was closer, but he managed to outperform Oscar and there's no point in denying that.

also it's still the beginning of the season, we have 18 races left, the championship standing can still change, upgrades will come for many teams, one bad weekend for a driver can switch everything up, so it's way too early to tell who's gonna win. the fact that they're losing their minds over Oscar leading the championship 6 races in, tells me just how much trust they have in their driver.

#scuderia-talks #answered asks #anti norris #let's go out and touch some grass #they either don't understand the sport or they're wilfully ignorant #i don't know which one's worse #also if i were Norris i'd be dead embarrassed to have fans who behave like some of his do #but hey that's just me

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the-strength-of-the-wolffe · 2 years ago

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Finally! I get to share my headcanons about this loveable piece-of-work, my boy Sinker.

Like Boost, he didn't choose his name; their batchmates came up with it because of his pessimism, a quirk that stress exacerbated (more on that below).

He was a reluctant “older” brother—not naturally responsible or nurturing but arbitrarily chosen to be in charge of his batchmates by their superiors. Although it felt unfair at the time, it’s the reason he’s a sergeant at the start of the war.

One of their trainers didn't get on with him (personality clash) and took every opportunity to beat him down. He put on a front of insolent indifference, but the harsh words (on top of Kaminoan indoctrination) eroded his spirit, leading him to develop that famously bleak estimation of himself and all clones.

For an engineered soldier, stress had an unusually adverse effect on him. It didn’t just sway his mood; by young adulthood, his hair started to thin and show gray roots. He couldn't stomach shaving it off, nor admit his shame by dyeing it black, so his solution was to dye it entirely gray and pretend to own it.

Needless to say, he isn’t in the healthiest frame of mind as we meet him in “Rising Malevolence.” He has a callousness about him that strikes me as a defense mechanism. Sadly, he doesn't take General Plo's words to heart that day. In fact, he isn't sure what to make of the General for some time.

If he had met Wolffe under any other circumstances, they wouldn't have become friends; they're too different, and Sinker is nothing if not realistic. Suffering the massacre together, and later rebuilding the 104th, bonds them like nothing else could. Even though rank and duties often keep them apart now, they hold fast to that bond.

He tries to move past the loss of his old squad by falling back on cadethood excuses ("I didn't want this job!") and cold memorized truths ("that's the reality of war"), but the horror and guilt get to him on occasion. For a while, he's at turns distant and aggressively protective toward his new squad.

He takes an immediate disliking to Comet, regarding him as a liability at best and a threat to the squad's safety at worst. Truthfully, he sees a bit of himself in the rookie (that defensive apathy), and he hates it. The tension between them erupts one day into physical violence, which he immaturely instigates. The brawl puts a bad mark on his record (and is my explanation for why he doesn't seem to climb any higher in rank). However, by coming to blows, the two of them are able to confront their issues with each other. Gradually, they work toward a more amiable relationship.

His personal beliefs and his mixed feelings about General Plo come to a head during a dangerous search-and-rescue operation. When half his squad (including Boost) become trapped in a damaged building, he fully expects he'll have to leave them to prioritize civilians, a prospect he suddenly finds chilling. To his shock, Wolffe and the General converge at once, the former taking over evacuations while the latter goes after the troopers. In the end, not a single one is lost.

Because of this harrowing event, he realizes first how much he cares about his men, what their lives are worth to him (not expendable!), and second that he's not alone in feeling that way—General Plo meant what he said. He still has some qualms about the General (e.g. the health considerations are a source of stress), but his love language is acts of service, and the General's tremendous act of saving his squad wins him over.

From this point onward, he's able to shoulder his responsibilities with less fear, and that confidence does wonders for him. He really evolves as a character—just look at how different he is in "Mercy Mission"! (I've got a separate post about this here.) He doesn't lose all of his rough edges, of course (he can still get nasty when stressed, and be rather angsty at times), but overall he rounds out to be a tough, conscientious, steadfast individual.

His sense of humor, however, does not improve.

#the clone wars #sinker #wolfpack #wolfpack headcanons #boost #comet #commander wolffe #plo koon #clones

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centrally-unplanned · 2 years ago

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I played Needy Streamer Overload, which was a lot of fun, with an asterisk. NSO is a Lifesim Management game for a batshit up-and-coming streamer, where you as her 'boyfriend' allocate her time between streaming, resting, and content inspiration/development to hit 1 million followers. The writing is very on point for actual streams culture;the topics and comments and all that are very true-to-life, while its zany edgecore presentation is hilarious. And the UI is full kino:

Vibes - and also, spoilers, not just a cutesy aesthetic, as the player is not in fact a real person so the digital viewport is ludonarratively cohesive, +1 point.

However, it also pissed me off for specific me reasons!

So, these games tend to go into two buckets. One is the engine builder - managing the lifesim is both involved and The Point of the game. You work hard to optimize and achieve the goal. The second is narrative device - the lifesim elements are more about narrative choice than challenge, and either can't be failed or are trivially cleared. You approach playing those 2 game types differently.

NSO presents itself like the former - its mechanics are pretty involved. Managing Followers, Stress, Affection, & Mental Darkness, all on a clock, while unlocking ~10 different streaming content topic progression trees, its a lot to track. Not saying its crazy hard or anything, but its what you spend your time doing. You will be asking yourself questions like "yes I could have sex with her for the third time this week to lower stress and boost affection so I can burn that affect buildup on the Sexy Stream lvl 2 to sync my highest topic bonus with my streaming streak bonus before I need to end it for a rest cycle, but I can only play that card so many times, is day 13 too early?". That is fun, and where your focus lies. On my first playthrough I tried to hit the 1 million target, barely succeeded, but burned out Ame's stats so much I got a short, pretty-much-failed ending.

So on my second playthrough I tinkered around and stumbled on a soft infinity engine, where I could push Ame's stress to the limit in the opening days to get her follower count to the point where she would unlock "follower milestone celebration" streams that I could bank, that did not increase stress but would count towards a streaming-every-day streak bonus, and never take a rest day to get that bonus insanely high. I got several million followers with low stress, low darkness, I thought I did a good job.

And I got a short, pretty-much-failed ending.

Turns out this game has 30 endings, and the lions share of the long, involved ones are from you completely fucking up. You will get a way more interesting ending if you make Ame-chan overdose on LSD and she trips her way into breaking though the illusion of the internet. You want to raise her darkness high as hell for half of them. You can found a cult, you can induce all sorts of violence against her or others, whatever you want. But the game didn't tell me!!

It instead presented me with a solid optimization puzzle, which I spent like 10 hours doing. I shouldn't have bothered! It doesn't really tell this partially for surprise, but if we are being honest its because they expect you to google it, and they expect you to watch streamers unlock 25 of them after you do 5. Which is how modern games are made, but personally I don't love relying on that. I do think games are at their best when they self-teach a player the right way to engage with it.

But I respect that some people would see the discarded scraps of a tryhard faildaughter that is Ame-chan and immediately push her into doing conspiracy theory streams while smoking weed. I am just not someone you can plunk an engine in front of and expect me not to try to tinker with it. This is 50% on me.

#needy streamer overload

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sketch-owl · 6 months ago

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All About the Joker Post!

Hello fellow Tumblr users, if you’ve stumbled across this wall of text congrats! You love and enjoy Batman content just as much as I do. This is a dedicated lore dump all about the one and only Joker as he exists in my Batman AU.

If this is the first one you’re reading, here’s a bit of backstory: This AU has existed in my brain for many years, though in true writer fashion I haven’t properly written it all out. Though eventually, I intend to make this into a work of fiction with chapters and everything. For now though, I have managed to write out all of our major characters’ backstories.

Before delving right in you should know that this story has dark themes that take place within the story and content that can be triggering, so if you are sensitive to those please read with caution or skip this one altogether. Mental health takes first place over silly Batman characters.

⚠️ Trigger warning for:

Death

Torture

Murder

Jack Napier aka the Joker had a loving and supportive family growing up, living a life of privilege. Both his mother and father had successful careers, his father working in software engineering and his mother owning her own business selling home-made baked goods and doing custom catering orders for large events. Jack was an only child, but he had no shortage of his mother’s undivided attention. He would often help her in the kitchen with measuring ingredients and adding them into bowls, and in between baking times they would play pretend in their living room. Jack loved baking with his mom, developing a love for everything sweet from an early age. But what he loved even more was playing theater, where he would stand on stage (the couch) with hundreds watching (his mom). He would throw plays where he would act every part, and the audience would add in the sound effects. The clapping of horse hoofs in his old western play, the creaking of a basement door in his scary monster play, and the dramatic punches of a hero fighting the villain in his superhero play.

In school, theater was also his favorite. The singing, the dancing, the costumes, he wanted to do it all. He would often practice his lines on his classmates during other subjects, or try out his new jokes on the teacher, earning him the title of class clown. He had dreamed of growing up and becoming a famous comedian or actor. Though between the ages of 16 and 17 that dream had changed.

His father had died suddenly and tragically in a car accident, falling asleep at the wheel as he was on his way home from a long night at work. The car veered off the road, striking a light post and rolling down the sloped landscape several meters before stopping. The accident was just minutes away from home. Jack and his mother watched from the window as an ambulance and several police cars went by. His mother convinced herself that it was nothing to worry about, whatever was going on didn’t need her concern. When her husband didn’t return at the normal time, she told herself that he must have been held up by the accident, that was all. He would be home safe soon. She stayed up all night waiting for him, praying. There would be a knock on the door early the following morning. Jack had crawled out of bed at the noise, peeking his head into the front room. His mother answered the door, wiping the tired from her eyes. Two police officers stood on the other side. One of the officers spoke quietly, something Jack couldn’t make out. His mother screamed and collapsed to the ground before the officer could continue. Jack rushed to her, holding her, and that’s when he heard it. His dad had died. The officer did his best to explain what happened. His mother wailed hysterically while Jack sat quietly, hugging her.

From that moment forward things had changed in their home. His mother had closed her baking business and found a job as a server in order to make ends meet. At first there was a period of time where his mother was constantly angry. She would cry and yell and rant about how stupid his father was to fall asleep while driving. He should have gone to a hotel. How could he leave her and his son like this. It wasn’t fair. She had planned out her whole life with him, and now she was left alone to pick up the pieces. His mother’s short fuse was often directed at her son. If he was falling behind in his academics in favor of doing theater, she would scream at him about how she already had a heavy burden to bear, and how disappointed his father would have been if he were here.

Jack decided the following year of school that he would drop theater as a class. He devoted a majority of his time to studying and greatly improved his GPA. Outside school he would also start working a part-time job, and help with a majority of the house chores. The house would always be clean when his mother came home. Eventually the anger and resentment his mother had went down, though she did not go back to her old happy self like Jack hoped. Her spirit was gone, only a shell of her remaining. Baking was the thing that had brought her so much joy, and now she had ordered takeout for every meal. But Jack couldn’t blame her. She had been through so much that the only thing he could do was be the support that she was missing.

After graduating, Jack had excitedly announced to his mother that he decided to pursue engineering. Not quite the same career that his father had, but it was within a similar field. He took her hands while trying his best to contain himself. This news was only half of the surprise that he had been holding onto, and the other half was something he had been wanting to do for his mom for a long time.

With a wide grin on his face, he said that he also was planning to move out to Gotham, the most technologically advanced city and then begin his career as an intern at Wayne Tech. He already had a place picked out that he would be renting, a spacious apartment in a good area of West Gotham with an amazing view over the city. He asked her if she would move with him. The apartment had two rooms and one bath, and a good sized kitchen. It would be perfect for her to do any baking or cooking just like she did before. She didn’t need to keep working her server job anymore, because as soon as he was done with university and his intern program he would bring enough money for the both of them. She could retire early and best of all, he would be right there to take care of her.

He was holding her hands close to his chest, eyes bright as he laid out his plans for the next several years. He beamed about how he was going to be at the forefront of technology innovation, and be a part of a massive team of incredibly intelligent people. As he spoke her expression didn’t change. After he was done, he waited for her response. She looked away from her son, shaking her head.

She said in a soft voice that she had lived in the same home for decades. All of her happiest memories were attached to the house. Marrying the love of her life, raising him, starting her business. While it was thoughtful of him to think of her, she couldn’t just uproot her life on a dime. Jack’s smile slowly fell. He told her that it was alright if she didn’t want to decide right now, saying that she could think about it. She pulled her hands away, saying that she was deciding right now, and her answer was no. Jack insisted that she reconsider then, saying that when he makes it at Wayne Tech she could start her baking business again and make new happy memories. She said that she didn’t want to go back to baking. That dream had passed a long time ago, but that didn’t mean he needed to hold himself back from reaching his dream. If he wanted to go be an engineer then he could do that without her.

Jack looked at his feet. He breathed deeply, holding in the emotions that threatened to spill over. He said that he didn’t want to go anywhere without her. Gotham city was on the opposite side of the country, and if something were to happen to her he wouldn’t be able to help her. She looked back at him. She said that if anything happened to her, then he would be ok.

Over the course of the following month, Jack had packed up his life into boxes. His belongings would be traveling by a moving truck while he and a backpack would be traveling by train. He hugged his mom tightly the day of his departure like it would be the last time, and then set off for a new life.

It took several days before he finally crossed into Ohio, then soon after he was at the Gotham Bay docks. Since Gotham was a series of islands that floated in the mid-section of Ohio, he would then need to board a ship to make it the rest of the way. The weather during the trip had shifted drastically from the hot humidity of Florida to the cold dryness of the northern states. It would take him some getting used to. The wind whipped through him as the ship moved steadily forward through dense clouds of fog. He wondered to himself how the captain of the ship knew where he was going, but then he saw it. Small lights in the far distance. Gotham city was so bright that you could find it even in the fog.

The ship pulled into the East Gotham docks. From a distance Gotham looked small in comparison to the rocky waters that surrounded it. But as they drew closer, the buildings on the island grew larger. Jack felt so tiny but so captivated. He had never been outside his home town before except for trips to the beach, and now here he was, standing before this massive and beautiful city. Despite it being dark and cloudy, the island seemed to glow with lights coming from buildings and signs and billboards with screens.

The people around him began to shuffle off of the ship and Jack followed along with the flow of traffic. He knew where to go, but looking around him he also didn’t at the same time. His sense of direction and confidence had been ripped out from under him the moment he stepped onto the train back home. Though everyone ahead of him seemed to know where they were going, as large groups of people filtered into a line to go down a flight of stairs that disappeared under the cobblestone walkway.

Making his way down, he was met with a place that was just as large as the boat docks he got off from, but more grandiose. It reminded him of an underground town square, as this place was bustling with people that arrived on other vessels. The walls were made of brick and held candle holders which lit the space, as well as chandeliers overhead. In the middle of the large open area were deep trenches that stretched across the room and into tunnels through the back wall. Jack looked at them puzzled, though it wasn’t a moment later before a train with a sleeker style came through the tunnel and slowed to a stop with steam hissing off its body. The world’s first ever subway. Jack tried to hold back his excitement but couldn’t help but jump giddily, a wide grin on his face. Some people around him gave him odd looks, but he didn’t care. This was the coolest thing he’s ever seen.

Looking at a nearby map board, Jack figured out which train he needed to take and which stop he needed to exit off of to get to the far side of the island. From there he would need to board another vessel to take him to West Gotham. Though after arriving at his destination, he was looking around confusedly. There was meant to be another travel ship at this dock but there was only a shipyard where goods and trade are delivered and sent out.

He went to ask someone who was walking out from the subway, but they only sneered at him in response and kept walking. Perhaps he was at the wrong dock. He was taking another look at his map when a strange sound caught his attention. His eyes shifted up towards it, and peeking out from the clouds in the sky slowly moving through the air was what he could only comprehend as a skyship. Jack would later learn that it was called a blimp. Forget the subway, this was the coolest thing he’s ever seen.

In complete awe and wonderment he watched the blimp descend down onto a landing platform a few blocks away. The flying ship was just as big as the city buildings surrounding it, and when he went to board it there were close to a hundred people on board. The inside of the blimp didn’t have much for seating, just a few benches for the elderly and disabled. Everyone else was standing, which had Jack worried. He made a beeline to the wall which had large windows going all the way around the room. When the blimp was set to rise in the air, Jack pressed his back against the wall and prepared to be shaken. Though nothing happened. He opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder at the window. They were slowly rising upwards getting lighter like a balloon being blown up. The ground got further and further away, until eventually it disappeared underneath low hanging clouds. He could feel the pressure in his head shifting as it entered the higher atmosphere, a feeling he was not used to. The blimp slowed to a stop for a few moments before moving forward, the sound of soft whirring kicking on as the propeller blades on the ship sprung to life.

The ship moves in a counterclockwise direction going from island to island he came to find out later. From East Gotham they went to South Gotham, then West Gotham. Much like a train making stops, he stayed onboard until he reached West. The entire trip he was looking out the window, taking in as much as the weather would allow. The sight of the city from this height was beautiful.

Upon landing, he tracked down the nearest subway station and caught one that would take him closest to his apartment. It was a bit of a walk after departing the train, but Jack didn’t mind. He got to look around on ground level what would be his new home, getting to know the street names and nearby shops. While walking, he noticed there were a lot of cars and traffic on the road. It was a lot of traffic in his experience at least. He wondered why everyone in Gotham couldn’t walk to their destinations, it seemed much easier and quicker, especially with the subways and blimp.

Finally at last he arrived at the apartment complex. This was where he would be staying for the foreseeable future, at least until he gets hired full time at Wayne Tech and starts saving his money for a house. A thought had crossed his mind as he stepped inside the landlord’s office to retrieve his key. Once he got a house he could ask his mom again to move in with him. Perhaps the idea of living in an apartment turned her off to it, but a nice house and him being financially successful could change her mind. He pushed that thought away for now though, greeting the landlord behind the desk. His moving truck should be coming in by the end of the day, so he had some time to kill.

He spent the rest of the day sightseeing, visiting the park, browsing the shops, grabbing food and sweets. Wherever his eyes were drawn he followed. When it started to get late he headed back to the apartment. His mind was buzzing with excitement still from it all, though he felt his feet drag behind him exhausted from travel. Surely he would be able to wind down enough to sleep while unpacking his bedding. He went to the landlord’s office, though the lights were turned off. A sign was posted in the window: hours 8am - 8pm closed on Sundays. Jack scratched his head. This shouldn’t be a problem, he could simply go check the back parking lot himself for the moving truck.

Going around the building, Jack had checked all around the place with no truck in sight. Perhaps his things were moved into his room already. He didn’t ask them to do that, but it’s possible. He went up to his apartment room, unlocking the door with his key. He hasn’t been inside the room yet, and while excited to see it in person he was first looking for a pile of boxes. Swinging the door open, he was met with nothing. The apartment was empty. He laughed nervously. Ok, don’t panic. Just call the moving company and see what’s going on before jumping to conclusions.

He took a breath and went around the rooms, finding the home landline phone. It had taken a while before he could get a hold of someone. He anxiously tapped his foot while waiting to hear where the truck was. The front desk clerk had finally returned and said that the truck with his things was running behind, and instead of arriving by today it was going to arrive a few days later. His heart sank. All he had was what he brought with him on the train. That night he slept on the floor, using his bag as a pillow.

Before he knew it the sun was rising and he barely slept. His back was stiff as he pushed himself up, moving over to the window. While watching the sunrise, he went over in his mind what he needed to do that day. His first semester at college will be starting next week and he needs to get books and supplies. He also needs to attend orientation tomorrow. But first things first, he was hungry. A few donuts and a shower later and he was off to the nearest book store.

Gathering up the books that were required by the school and a few other supplies like notebooks and pencils, he brought everything up to the register. He reached into his bag to retrieve his wallet. He couldn’t find it though with the amount of things he had packed into it, so he apologized to the store clerk and pulled some of the stuff out of the bag. His wallet must have fallen to the bottom. He pulled everything out, searched every pocket, patted down his pants. He couldn’t find it anywhere. His wallet was missing.

He left the store empty handed. He shook his head at himself. How could he be so careless as to misplace his wallet? It had to be at the apartment, maybe it fell out of his bag. A quick jog back home and a look around the place turned up nothing. There was only one conclusion left. He had been robbed. Jack cursed to himself. The cash that was in the wallet was as good as gone, but most of his money was still on his card. He went downstairs and phoned the bank, placing a hold on his card and requesting a new one. Though it would take some time before it would arrive.

He hung up the phone, staring at the wall of the apartment lobby. What was he going to do now? He needed money for those books and more importantly food for the week. The snacks he had gotten yesterday would be gone by tomorrow. It was then that something caught his attention. A bulletin board next to the phone. Several flyers were posted, some about service advertising, some about missing persons. But one stood out to him from the rest: a flyer promoting a comedy show at a local bar.

The show was free and just the distraction he needed. After his college orientation, he went to the bar that night. While he wasn’t able to buy himself a drink, he enjoyed himself watching different comedians go up on stage and do their acts. One of the comedians had done a bit where he was interacting with people in the audience, guessing what kind of drink they were having. He then pointed to Jack, asking him if he was having a drink tonight. Jack shook his head, which the comedian booed him for. The guy on stage said that he would have asked if he was the designated driver tonight, but he’s seated alone. So instead he asked why he came to see the show by himself. Jack answered honestly, saying that he’d just got into town. The comedian nodded, welcoming him to Gotham and asked the audience to do the same.

He jokingly asked Jack how the rats had been, which made the bar erupt into laughter. He then asked Jack what made him move to Gotham. Jack said that he was going to be starting college soon. The comedian chuckled and said if that was why he wasn’t drinking tonight, he was a broke college student already.

That jab had struck a nerve in Jack. He was painfully reminded of why he was here seeing this show in the first place. When he had stopped smiling, the comedian said to him to not take himself so seriously. He continued, saying his situation was very common, in fact many people from around the world come into Gotham to attend school. Only difference is they have mommy and daddy paying for everything, and he’s a sorry sap in a bar who can’t afford a drink. The audience laughed. Jack felt himself sink in his chair. He wanted to get up and leave right then and there. Coming to this show was a mistake and he should have just stayed home in his empty and sad apartment.

But then the comedian asked him another question. He asked him what he was going to be studying in college. Jack looked up at him, and without much thought or hesitation he answered ‘How to be a real comedian, unlike you.’

The audience ‘ooooh-ed.’ The comedian looked taken aback, though righted himself quickly. He asked Jack if that was why he was really here, to steal his material. Jack said back that he didn’t need to because his jokes were shit. The comedian brushed him off, saying that the audience clearly disagrees with him. But in any case, he’s not going to entertain hagglers. He then moved on, pointing to another person in the audience to make a guess on what kind of drink they were having. The person he picked had spoken up before he could continue, saying that she wanted to see the college kid on stage. The people around her said they did too. Soon the whole audience was looking at Jack and asking him to show up the other comedian.

What was once a fun comedy night had quickly turned into a battle of comedians, which was arguably more entertaining. Jack got up on stage, his opponent forcing the microphone into his chest before finding a table. The audience stared at him, waiting expectantly. Jack cleared his throat. His mind was blank. He hadn’t been on a stage since he was a kid. He searched his brain for something to say, some introduction joke to get the crowd laughing. But all he could think about was how alone he was. He had moved out to this city to start a life of his own and nothing had gone according to plan. He had no bed, no money, and no mommy or daddy to help him.

He looked at the microphone in his hand. It was then that a realization struck him. He held the microphone up, introducing himself and where he was from. He told the audience that Florida was nothing in comparison to Gotham city, truly. When he was living on his own back home, it took him at least a week before he got robbed. But here it took him less than a day before his wallet was stolen.

He retold the unfortunate series of events, making himself to be this young and dumb college kid that is more book smart than street smart. The audience had ate it up, laughing at every turn of the story and waiting to see what happened next. The final part to his story was how he wound up in the bar, not a penny to his name, being picked on by an asshole on stage. Even the asshole in question was smiling at his table. After his tale was concluded he thanked everyone for coming out tonight, then went back to his seat.

The crowd clapped and cheered, some even shouting that they wanted more. A bar staff member jumped up on stage to calm the energy level down and introduce the next comedian. Jack sighed with relief. Although the audience had loved his performance, he didn’t mean to take over the other guy’s show. Even if it was shit. He was snapped out of his thoughts when a glass was placed down at his table by one of the waitstaff. Jack excused himself, saying that he didn’t order anything and that they had the wrong table. The waiter said that someone else had bought him the drink, then went on their way. He looked back at the glass. A smile spread across his face. He sipped on the drink while watching the rest of the show.

Once the show had concluded, the bar staff had gone on the stage one last time to remind the audience to tip the comedians and waiters if they liked what they saw and wanted more. People got up from their seats and began shuffling towards the door. Jack had stayed behind to finish off his drink, getting up from the table after nearly everyone had left.

A bar staff person had come up to him before he went out the door, handing him an envelope. Jack looked at them confusedly, asking what it was. They answered, saying it was the tips he made from the show. Jack looked even more confused, saying he wasn’t a part of the show. The tips should go to the actual performers. He tried to hand the envelope back, but they held their hand up and said that the people requested the money go to him specifically. They continued to say that the bar has comedy shows every weekend, so he was welcome to come by again but as a performer.

Later on when he was back in his apartment, Jack had opened the envelope. There was over a hundred dollars in cash contained inside. He stared at the money in disbelief. He didn’t feel he deserved it, though at the same time performing on that stage was so much fun. Perhaps it wasn’t a mistake after all to attend the show.

The next morning he went out and purchased the supplies he needed, having just enough left over cash to get himself some groceries. When he got back home, the landlord let him know that his moving truck arrived. For the rest of the day he unpacked, setting up everything just as he envisioned it. The last thing he did was his desk where he would be studying and doing homework. In a couple more days he would be a college student at West Gotham University. He just couldn’t wait to get started.

When the day finally arrived, it was everything he dreamed of and more. The university was bustling with students from all over the world. Even some in his class came from as far as New York to attend this school. Jack had felt right at home, surrounded by people who were just as passionate about technology as he was. A bit after starting school he received his replacement card in the mail and he had access to his money again. His funds that he had saved wouldn’t last forever though, and he would need to find a part-time job.

Though at night while he was studying at his desk, or while he was cooking himself dinner, his mind would wander back to the comedy show at the bar. He would daydream often while staring out at the city from his apartment window, thinking about the jokes and stories he could tell on the stage.

He played with the idea in his head of going back. The other comedians might not like him being there on the account that he stole the show from one of them. He couldn’t get the thought out of his head, until eventually one weekend where he just went for it. He went back to the bar and sighed himself up as one of the acts that night.

He was correct in assuming that the others wouldn’t be as welcoming towards him. Some of them made snide comments to him while he was waiting backstage to be called. The same guy that he called out was there as well. When Jack saw him he felt a tinge of guilt. But the man smiled at him, wishing him good luck tonight and that there were no hard feelings. Jack felt instant relief from hearing that, and the anxiety that was building had subsided some.

When it was Jack’s turn on stage, he gave it his all. He used the material that he thought up over the last couple of weeks, and he absolutely knocked it out of the park. He was well received by the audience, and the bar staff called him a natural for being new to the comedy scene. Then at the end of the show he was tipped almost double the amount he was given last time. Jack would continue to perform every weekend, using the show like his part time job. Not only did performing pay his bills, but he also had so much fun doing it. It never felt like a job to him, more like a second dream that came after his first one of being an engineer.

He continued this routine throughout his time in college, taking small breaks here and there when he was able to financially, that way he could allow his creativity to recharge. It was during his final semester that he met someone after one of his shows.

He introduced himself as someone who worked for the city of North Gotham, specifically he was the manager of Amusement Mile. He said that he loved Jack’s performance, saying that he obviously stood out from everyone else there. He could tell he put a lot of thought into how everything is written and structured, and that takes drive which he admired. Saying that he would cut right to the chase, he offered Jack a job opportunity working for him at Amusement Mile doing the same thing he was doing here but being paid much more than tips. His hours were flexible, and he would have full creative freedom to do what he wanted with his act. He didn’t need to make a decision right away, but if he was interested in going bigger to give him a call.

The man handed him a business card, which Jack accepted. He thanked him for enjoying the show, and the man left. He looked down at the card, absolutely stunned. He had known that the audience liked his performance, but he didn’t know he was good enough to be approached by a talent recruiter for a theme park.

While he loved the thought of performing on a proper stage and not in a bar, he wouldn’t have the time to do that after he started his career at Wayne Tech. Before he knew it his graduation day was here, and he was walking across a stage adorned with the tasseled cap and robe to receive his diploma. The feeling was bittersweet. He was the top of his class, his teachers saying he had a bright future ahead of him. Though looking out over all the parents sitting on the sidelines watching their now grown up children complete their final year of school had made him miss his mom that much more. She had already been on his mind that whole day, but now even moreso. His eyes stung with emotion. He inhaled sharply, pushing those thoughts down. He knew she would be proud of him regardless of if she were here to see him or not.

The following day he made preparations to apply to Wayne Tech. He called the front desk and asked if they had an opening for an intern or engineer apprenticeship. The secretary said he could come in for an interview a few days later. When the time came, he traveled over to North Gotham and took the subway to Wayne Tower. While up in the air he could clearly see what building he would be heading to, as it was the largest one on the island and possibly the whole city. Being the biggest landmark, the subway brought him right outside the building. Looking up at the building from this close really puts things into perspective. It was mind bogglingly massive.

The front had a courtyard area with trees, grass, benches, and a water fountain in the center. There were some people sitting outside either working or reading. One person sitting on a bench had their face in a newspaper, and as he passed them by his eyes skimmed over the headline. It was an article about Martha and Thomas Wayne and the recent charity they attended. How Jack wished he could meet the man that started it all, what a dream that would be.

Heading into the main lobby of the building, everything inside was just as ginormous as the outside. Right away everything felt so futuristic. The entryway had the Wayne Tech logo imprinted into the tile floor, and the walls were covered with television screens that displayed various looping photos of the company and its creation. Some photos were from when Wayne Tower was first being built, to now with the CEOs setting up charity events and donating great sums of money.

In the middle of the lobby there was a circle shaped help desk with a team of people working behind it. All of them were busy either answering phone calls or typing out letters on a writer. When he went up to the desk, one of the secretaries welcomed him to Wayne Tech before asking what she could help him with. Jack felt a sudden spike in his anxiety. He needed to make a good first impression with everyone he met here, because all of the people who work at this company know each other. Trying his best to smile normally and not be awkward he said he was here for an interview.

The secretary called one of the managers to let them know he was there, and after a couple minutes someone had come down the stairs and greeted him. She had him follow her to an upstairs office where she took a seat at the desk and he sat down across from her. This was it. This was his moment to secure a spot at the best company to work for. This needed to be his best performance yet. He needed to make his mom proud. His dad proud. The anxiety had moved up into his throat by this point. He couldn’t help but wring his hands together in his lap. He could feel his heart beating against his chest. The interview started with the manager asking him how he was. Jack laughed nervously, almost too loudly. He cleared his throat, saying he was good and excited to be here.

Minutes passed by like seconds, and just like that the interview was over. The manager had asked him all the usual questions that interviews ask. What made you interested in working for this company, what are your qualifications, what department are you interested in, what are some things about yourself, can you work in a team with other people. Jack had practiced answering these questions in his head several times leading up to this moment. At the end he felt very good about how it went. He knew he absolutely nailed it out of the park. His answers were spot on, he had the starting qualifications for an internship, and the manager seemed to like him. All he had to do now was wait for them to call him and say that he was hired.

So he waited. And waited. And waited some more. Over the weekend where he normally would go to the bar to perform, he opted to stay home on the chance that Wayne Tech would call him. Two weeks had passed by and he hadn’t heard anything. The doubt was eating away at him. What if he thought he did good but actually bombed it. He couldn’t take the uncertainty anymore. He called Wayne Tech’s help desk and asked for the status of his application. The secretary on the other end went to look for it. When she returned, she told him that there wasn’t a position open at this time for an engineer intern but they would keep him in mind for when the position opens up.

Jack’s heart sank to the bottom of his chest. He was so racked with emotion he didn’t think to ask her when the position would be open, he simply thanked her and hung up. He put the phone back on the receiver. He walked up the stairs to his apartment. He closed the door behind him. He looked over at the window in his living room. The view he had over the city. He sat down on his couch. He looked at the windows in all the other buildings for as far as he could see and how they lit up the island like stars in the sky. He buried his head in his hands and sobbed.

What was he to do now? He came to this city wanting to be at Wayne Tech. He went to school, worked hard, spent late nights studying, and earned his degree. But he was expected to wait around until they had room for him. The whole reason for him leaving home was to be an engineer at this company. He wasn’t even sure at this point if they would hire him even when the position did open. He was at an utter loss. He wanted so badly to call his mom. He missed her so much. Having her there made him feel safe. Like he could fall and she’d be there to catch him. They went through some hard times together, but she had still been there for him even if it wasn’t emotionally. But a part of him didn’t want to disappoint her. Telling her that he failed would make him feel even worse.

Eventually he had laid down in bed. His eyes had glanced over to his nightstand. The business card the man from the bar had given to him was resting on top. A thought had entered his mind, though he pushed it away immediately, it being too absurd to even consider. As he tried to sleep off the heavy weight that was resting on top of him, he kept returning to the thought. It was pestering him almost. Being an entertainer at Amusement Mile sounded fun and the man made it seem like he would be doing the same thing but with more perks. But he had no clue what he’d actually be signing up for. A theme park was far bigger than a mere bar. His act would need to be different to capture the attention of a much larger audience, all of different ages and backgrounds.

Despite being so exhausted that night, he tossed and turned. He fought with himself on what to do next and whether or not that was the right thing. He didn't want his money to have been wasted on a degree he was never going to use, but he also needed money that this performing job could potentially give him. He didn't want to disappoint his mom by becoming a clown act, but also he didn't know how long it would be before Wayne Tech decided to hire him. He was torn. While restlessly looking up at the ceiling, he had thought back to a time when he was this indecisive. His dad had told him that if he ever found himself torn, the best answer was either neither choice or both choices. Early the next morning he came to a final decision. He would do both.

He picked up the business card and gave the number on it a call. The new plan would be to see if he liked Amusement Mile, and if all goes well he would work the job until Wayne Tech hired him. He also planned to call them once every month to check in on his application and if the position opened. It had been awhile since Jack had met the man who gave him the card, but after introducing himself over the phone the man remembered him instantly. He said Jack could call him Jefferson or Jeff for short, and invited him to come over to Amusement Mile for a tour and chat whenever he was ready.

Jack went to go meet him that same day. Much like how Florida is known for being the home of Disney World, Gotham is also known for being the home of Amusement Mile, a massive carnival styled theme park on North Gotham. While flying over, Jack couldn't help but look out the window at Wayne Tower. He tried not to dwell on his thoughts, instead focusing on what questions he wanted to ask Jeff. Like before, after the blimp landed Jack rode the subway to the Northernmost side of the island. Not only is Amusement Mile the name of the park, but it’s also the name of the district with the actual park being one section of it on the edge of the beach.

Jeff had met him at the front entrance of the park, welcoming him in. It was still morning so Jack wasn’t expecting the park to be busy, but after Jeff started to show him around there was actually a sizable amount of people. There were rides and games of course, all typical of a regular carnival. But there were also live shows, band concerts, vendors, and an entire zoo. It was like a fair that was here all year long. The place was much bigger than Jack was anticipating, making this job even more intimidating. But as he and Jeff were walking he explained that Jack would be working in the big top tent where they host live shows.

They headed inside the tent, which was more like an auditorium. The place was arranged in a big circle with the stage in the center and the seats were raised bleachers that went all the way around. Instead of facing the audience in front of him, Jack would need to constantly be turning around as he was performing. Jack could feel his palms starting to sweat. He laughed nervously, the sound jumping out of his chest like a squeaking mouse. Jeff told him not to worry, adjusting to the style of seating is actually a lot easier than he’s thinking. He also needn’t worry about straining his voice, he said while walking over to the far back of the tent. He picked up what looked to be a microphone from behind a table, but it was much smaller with a headband attached to it.

At the end of the tour, Jack got to meet some of the other performers that had come in to do their show that morning, as well as the sound team. Jeff said that he was welcome to stick around and get to know everyone around the park, and after the show he could use the empty tent to practice. Jack smiled and thanked him. His heart was beating so fast that he couldn’t focus on much else. He sat down on the bleachers for a few minutes to catch his breath, feeling entirely overwhelmed by it all. What was wrong with him? He used to be so comfortable on a stage and now just the thought of getting up on this one is terrifying to him.

While trying to rationalize to himself, people began to filter into the tent. A few early birds turned into crowds of people, and soon every seat was taken. He wanted to leave and get away from the noise, though he decided against that. It would be rude of him to miss the show after meeting the performers, and he wanted to start off on the right foot this time.

The show involved a group of clowns doing comedy improv skits. They would call on audience members to randomly change something about the scene, either it be a prop, setting, or character that the performer was acting out. The show devolved into a hilarious chaotic mess, with the group just rolling with whatever the chosen audience members shouted out. Jack had forgotten all about feeling anxious, being absolutely captivated and laughing along with the people around him. Seeing the clowns freely jump from one idea to the next had given him so much inspiration for his own show. He could do anything, it didn't need to standup. He could start new and be anything he wanted, the only limits being that it needed to be age appropriate for kids. He would go home and get right to work.

Jack's first show at Amusement Mile would be at night when the amount of guests would be at their highest. He was nervous still, but breathed through it, reassuring himself that he would be alright. He could do this. He was getting ready in one of the dressing rooms next to the big top tent. He looked at himself in the mirror. You're alright, you can do this, he said to himself. There was a knock on the door, startling him out of his pep talk. Jeff was on the other side. He said he just wanted to check in with him and let him know that he had 5 minutes before showtime. He smiled and said that Jack looked fantastic. Jack thanked him, saying that he hoped the audience liked him too. Jeff reassured him that they absolutely will. He was going to knock their socks off. And he did.

When Jack stepped onto the stage, he was dressed from head to toe in a full colorful clown outfit. He had painted his face a traditional white with a red nose, lips, and tear drops under his eyes. He also tried to dye his hair blue but it ended up coming out as green, which he ended up liking way better. He took a dramatic bow in front of the audience, introducing himself as Jack the Joker.

The first half of his act started as standup, something he was familiar and comfortable with. He played the character of Joker, a goofy but mischievous clown who had been destined to be a prince but ran away from his life of luxury to follow his dream of spreading laughter and joy. As his persona he told stories to the audience with jokes sprinkled in. The ending would always tie back into the start of the story somehow, making a funny and satisfying conclusion. Then the second half of his act involved magic tricks. Jack had begun to teach himself how to do them, but it was taking him a while to perfect them. So instead the joke was that he was terrible at magic and his tricks would backfire on him. For this he would use firecrackers and sparklers, his simple card trick 'exploding' and making a huge mess across the stage.

At the end of the show he took a bow, making sure to rise up, turn around and bow again so he faced everyone. The crowd was the loudest one that he's ever gotten. Everyone, especially the kids were clapping and screaming and shouting for him to do one more trick. Hearing that, he decided that he could do one more. He said to the audience that for his last trick he would make himself disappear, and he was triple sure that this time it would actually work. He had saved some extra pyrotechnics in his jacket just in case the sparklers didn't light. He waved his arms around, shouting the magic pun-filled phrase before letting loose a smoke bomb. Just like that he had vanished. The kids went nuts.

Needless to say, the show went off without a hitch. Jack the Joker's show continued to be the most popular event to see at Amusement Mile. People of all ages came to watch, and each one was a different experience than the last. Jack would spend all of his free time coming up with new ideas and writing new material. The years had sped by like minutes. He had become so successful that he never thought about going back to Wayne Tech and asking to be an intern. Not when he had his face on a billboard advertising the park.

In that time he had improved greatly with his magic tricks and picked up more and more to use for his shows, only to intentionally have them fail spectacularly, though making it seem like it was accidental. Along the way Jeff had been a guiding hand to him. The pair had gotten to be very close, and often they would sit in the dressing room or big tent and work on their separate things. Occasionally Jack would run an idea by him, and Jeff would ask him his opinion on how to improve the park or tackle a problem. Then after another successful show they both would celebrate by going out to eat.

Jack was financially comfortable enough to where he could get himself a house, and then ask his mom if she would move in with him. That was always the plan, though he hasn't called her once since moving to Gotham. He had been too much of a coward to, backing out at the last minute out of fear of what she would say. He's gone over it in his head probably hundreds of times. How he would tell her everything leading up to him being successful as a performer. Perhaps she would be genuinely happy for him. Perhaps not. The uncertainty of how she'd react left him paralyzed to follow through with it. In his mind, if he kept putting off buying a house, then he never had to make that phone call.

He was thinking about it even now as he was wrapping up for the evening after another show. He just needed to do it. Like ripping off a bandaid. Jeff had poked his head in the dressing room, praising him for an amazing show and asking if he wanted to grab dinner. After the park's gates were closed the two of them walked out together, as they usually did. They both laughed about how funny the kids in the audience were that night, with their mouths held agape when Jack did his magic tricks.

Jeff told him how lucky he was to have stumbled across him that night at the bar. He had been out with some friends who lived in West Gotham and they wanted to grab some drinks. By pure luck and chance he met one of the funniest and most talented guys that he's had the pleasure of calling a friend. Jack smiled at him, saying he also felt lucky. When the plan he made for his life wasn't panning out, he had taken a leap of faith not knowing where he would land. Jack had owed it to him for believing he would make it, and encouraged him to keep going.

After they had dinner the pair went their separate ways. That would be the last time Jack would see Jeff. The following day Jack had gone to the park to do some writing for his next show. When he walked up to the front gates, the staff person behind the ticket booth had called him over. She asked him if he had heard yet. His confused response let her know that he hadn’t yet. She lowered her voice to a very soft tone, telling him that Jefferson had passed away last night.

After Jeff had gotten home last night he suffered a major heart attack. His neighbors had gone to check on him that morning because his normally quiet and sweet dog wouldn’t stop barking. When the paramedics arrived he was already gone and there was nothing they could do. The staff woman apologized to him, saying that she knew they both were close. She added that the park would be open today, but tomorrow it would be closed until a new manager is appointed by the owner of the park. Jack thanked her for telling him. He thought he should say more, but his voice had hung up in his throat. He needed to leave. He needed to leave right now, but his feet felt like cinder blocks firmly planted on the ground. The woman must have seen the hurt on his face because she told him that Jefferson had been in a long battle with his health, though he hid it from everyone. He never wanted others to worry about him. He was the kind of person that always wanted to lift you up, and he came into work everyday to do just that.

He thanked her again and turned to leave, forcing his feet to carry him back home. Without Jeff at the park Jack had no reason to be there outside his normal showtime. He tried to hold in his emotions until he got back to his apartment but was quickly failing. His heart ached. The suddenness of it all had made his mind go blank. He didn’t know if he should continue on like he had before, or cancel his next week’s show. The only thing on his mind was how could this have happened. If he had known, if he had seen the signs, maybe he could have been there to help him. He could have gotten the paramedics faster and they would have had more time to save his life. It was only after he stepped through his door that the realization finally hit him. He had just lost his best friend. He sobbed long and hard.

Jack had taken a few days to just do nothing. He decided during that time he would do the show coming up if the park was open. Jeff would have wanted him to keep going. But when he sat down to write he had trouble focusing. His head still felt like mush. Nothing he wrote down sounded good. He looked back through his old jokes and ideas for inspiration, but that spark that he once had wasn’t there. He knew he needed more time to clear his head, though he forced himself to continue anyway. He wasn’t happy with the end result, but it was the best that he could come up with.

The day before his show he went over to the park to see if it was open, which to Jack’s slight disappointment it was. He went over to the staff person at the ticket booth, which was a different person than last time he was here. He asked them if there was a new manager for the park. Not yet, the guy said, but in the meantime the owner was here keeping the place running.

Jack felt slightly relieved by that. Of course he would eventually have a new boss, but replacing Jeff this early felt too soon. It was already hard enough going into a performance and putting on a brave face. While he was there he might as well rehearse his show. Going inside, he went to the big top tent. There wouldn't be another show for a couple hours so he would have the place to himself. He began to walk through his lines like usual, improving some jokes to see if it sounded better. But as he continued he just wasn't into it. What he wrote wasn't landing in the same way it did before, and he wasn't sure why. Everything about it just felt wrong.

He tossed the book to the side, too frustrated to look at it anymore. He needed to come up with an entirely new act before his show tomorrow night, and he was at a loss of what to do. If Jeff were here he would have bounced ideas off of him. But he wasn't here. He needed to do it on his own.

A small voice had startled Jack out of his thoughts. He turned his head and a young looking girl was standing in the entrance way of the tent. She asked him if he was using the space. He shook his head no, hopping off the stage. She thanked him and got up. As he turned to leave, the girl asked him if he was done for the day. Jack said that he was just giving her space to do her thing. She nodded, looking down timidly. He had gotten to the entrance before the girl spoke again, asking if he didn't mind being her audience while she practiced, as she had found it hard to talk with no one there. Jack said he didn't mind at all, and walked back over to a seat.

As the girl did her act, Jack had given her some tips and suggestions on how to improve upon it. The main thing was her confidence. Jack said that he himself gets nervous before every show, but putting on a character helps him find that larger voice. Her character could just be her, but bigger and bolder. By the end of the rehearsal she could project her voice a lot louder and clearer, and her stiff movements were more free and natural. She felt a lot better with her performance, and gave him many thank yous.

Jack wished her good luck and went home for the day to write. For his show he ended up using more magic tricks than standup, that way the audience wouldn't pay as much attention to his jokes. The people loved him all the same, but he couldn't help but feel guilty. The audience deserved to have nothing but the best from him and he didn't deliver that. He sat in his dressing room taking off his makeup. He looked at himself in the mirror, half of his clown face wiped away.

There was a light knock on his door. A voice on the other side asked if Jack was there. He cleared his throat, acknowledging that he was. The voice apologized for interrupting him, but they came to tell him that the owner of the park wanted to speak to him. Jack froze in place. The owner wanted to talk to him? Instantly his mind began to race. His show didn't go well like it normally does and the owner wanted to talk to him. He quite possibly could be fired over this.

As he finished changing into his normal clothes, the dread was setting in. If he went home now he wouldn't be reprimanded for how horribly his act had gone. He could just skip past it like nothing had happened. But if he did that he would be in even worse trouble. As he grappled with himself on what to do, the decision was made for him. He heard someone call his stage name. He looked over and it was a taller man dressed in formal attire.

Jack smiled politely, walking over to him. The man introduced himself as the owner of the park and said that he'd been wanting to meet him. The owner asked to walk with him. Jack felt his heart beating out of his chest. He could tell just looking at the owner's expression that he was not happy. He swallowed, following the owner next to him as they walked around the park.

The owner started off by thanking Jack for putting on such an amazing show for the past several years. The amount of guests visiting the park had exploded in numbers, all to see his show. Jack nodded quietly, thanking him. The owner continued, saying that running an entire theme park was never easy. He had worked with Jefferson for a very long time to keep everything in the park safe and fun for all ages. But it was people like Jack that really kept the place open. Guests crave to see new and exciting things, and Jack has consistently done that.

They had stopped in front of one of the rides, brightly glowing with florescent lights as it spun around. The owner said that Jack could very well keep doing his thing, being a colorful character on stage. But he wanted to offer him an opportunity to help him that much more in overseeing the park as its new manager.

Jack looked at him dumbfounded. The owner laughed, saying that he knows it's sudden but to just hear him out on it before making a decision. Not only did Jefferson speak very highly to him of Jack and his problem solving skills, but he also had been looking for someone who could work well with others and keep spirits up just like Jeff did. The other day while he was there he had spoken to someone who said that Jack helped them improve their confidence. They said he listened to them, was kind and patient, and gave them helpful advice.

If he accepted the offer, the owner said he would train him himself on how to do everything involved with running the park. Customer service, safety inspections, budgeting, scheduling, everything. He also didn't have to give up being a performer either, even with all this new responsibility. The owner would work with him so he had time to write and plan his shows. He could have the best of both worlds. But if it was too much to take on the owner said he understood. It was a lot to ask of him. Finding the right person was like finding hay in a needle stack. If you choose wrong then it could result in major consequences.

Jack couldn't believe it. Just a few short years ago he was starting out as a performer dressed as a clown and now he was offered the position of park manager. The thought of being essentially the boss of everyone was more than a little intimidating. Helping out one performer with their show was one thing, it was an entirely other thing to watch over a hundred employees. This was simply just impossible. Though somehow Jeff found a way to make it work.

The following day he had made the decision to accept the job. For the next 5 or so years he would work hard to fill Jeff's shoes. He would go home everyday constantly exhausted from the work, but to him it was all worth it. He loved helping others and getting to use his creativity and knowledge in engineering to bring to life new ideas for the park.

Guests visiting the park were steadily going up with every new ride and show added. Instead of Jack performing once every week, he would perform once biweekly. One week Jack would have the responsibility of running the park, and the following week the owner would take over for him, only asking Jack to help him with smaller managerial tasks so he had enough time to write for the show.

Though during this time, crime rates in Gotham were also on the rise. A territorial war had begun with several different mafia organizations and the GCPD were struggling to keep up. Not only did this war cause mass amounts of property damage, in some areas even leveling multi-story buildings, but also the casualty count was skyrocketing including both mafia members and innocents caught in the crossfire. The people of Gotham were too scared to leave their homes for fear of being swept up in the chaos happening outside.

As a result of this, Amusement Mile was suffering financially. Tickets being sold were at an all time low to no fault of the park. Jack had figured once everything calmed down and the mafia was dealt with, things would go back to normal. Guests would return to the park and be able to enjoy the new attractions again. But the war had continued and persisted for months on end. Jack had brought the problem to the owner, suggesting that they temporarily close down the park to save on costs. However, the owner was of the opinion that the media were using the mafia for their news stories and making crime activity out to be a bigger issue than it was. Guests were still coming into the park, and it would be unfair to them to close their doors.

Money began to get tighter, and soon Jack was needing to pull money from anywhere he could just to keep the park afloat. Show budgets were cut, ticket and food prices increased, and eventually employees were laid off. It physically hurt when he needed to tell his own people that he couldn’t afford to pay them for their work any longer. The owner still wasn’t budging, insisting that the rates of crime would be handled soon and that they would be ok. Frustrated now more than ever, Jack had dipped into his own savings to stall having to let go more people.

He was lost on what to do. Usually he was able to come up with a solution to any problem, but not this time. They were going to go under and be forced to close and Jack wasn’t able to fix it. At least until he was approached one late night by a man who was waiting outside the park gates for him.

Jack had just finished a show, the tent being less than half full. The owner had pulled him aside afterward, telling him that he had to leave early and that he needed him to close up the park that night. Jack agreed, staying behind and waiting for all the guests to make their way out before locking the gate. As he turned around to head home as well, he came face to face with a man.

Startled out of his skin, he went to take a step back but the man just got closer and grabbed his shirt. He felt something shoved into his side painfully. The man spoke in a low, gruff voice, telling him to be quiet and not to move. Jack threw his hands up to the man’s chest, using all his weight to shove him off. Suddenly he became aware that he was surrounded by a group of men. One of them yanked him back by the hair, another punched him in the gut, causing him to collapse onto the gravel. He rolled onto his side, gasping for air and fighting the urge to throw up. He felt one of the men behind him grab the back collar of his shirt, picking him back onto his feet. The man he had shoved leaned into his face. He told him not to be stupid unless he wanted a bullet in him next, spitting the words as he talked.

Jack couldn’t move even if he wanted to, as his body uncontrollably coughed and convulsed. The man explained that he and his ‘friends’ were going to take his park and claim it as theirs. He was giving him two options: the first is that they break every bone in his body starting with his fingers, and when they’re done hang him out for the crows. The second option was that he tell them where his boss was and they’d think about letting him go. Jack’s heart was beating so fast that the sound was pounding in his ears. He held his hands up and said wait, wait, wait, the words spilling out of his mouth. Shakily he told them he didn’t know where his boss was, as he had left hours earlier. The man tsked. That wasn’t the response he wanted. One of the men took Jack’s hand, picking one of his fingers to bend backwards. Jack shouted for them to stop, there had to be something else he could do. Anything they wanted, they could have it. He just didn’t know where the owner was.

The man motioned for the other thug to stop. He said as a matter of fact, there was something they needed from him. If he paid them a fee they’d set him loose. The amount that he asked for was ridiculously high. Jack said that coming up with that much was impossible. The man shrugged, saying that he was out of luck then. The thug bent his finger back, snapping it with a sickening crack. Jack yelled out painfully, begging them to stop. He didn’t mean it was impossible to get the money, he meant that it was impossible to get it all at once. The money from the park was in a bank account, and he couldn’t withdraw all of it in one day. The man paused, looking hard at him. Jack was lying through his teeth. But the thugs bought it. The man said that he had a week to come up with the money. He warned him not to talk or run, as they’d be watching him. They’d know, and all the people that he works with would join him. After the men left, Jack laid on his back, breathing heavily. What did he just do? What did he just agree to?

As soon as he got home that night, he raced to the phone and called the owner. As the line kept ringing he was looking all around him with his back pressed up against the wall. Jack had called over and over, begging for him to pick up the phone, but there was no answer. No, it couldn’t be. Jack didn’t want to believe it. The owner had left him in the hands of the mafia. He was completely on his own.

He didn’t sleep that night. He had barricaded his door and window with anything and everything he had, but even then he didn’t feel safe. He was terrified that they would come for him because he made that phone call. He just wanted to warn him, but now he wasn't even sure if he was still in Gotham. He sat on the floor of his now empty living room utterly terrified. He didn’t know what to do now. He couldn’t call the police or try to leave, they would skin him alive before he could set foot on a boat and who knows what else they would do to his employees. The money they were asking for he didn’t have. He was barely scraping by with the park. The only thing he thought to do was continue running the park and hope that within a week it was enough.

Jack had gone back to work like nothing had happened. He greeted guests, helped performers with their shows, carrying on like he usually was. But while walking the grounds his eyes were darting everywhere. The men that cornered him that night could be inside the park, watching him, hiding amongst the crowds of people. With every passing day he would count up the money, his hands trembling when the numbers were short yet again. He looked down at his bandaged finger. It pained him to do it, but Jack withheld everyone’s paycheck. When they came to him the following morning asking about it, he lied and told them that there was an error with the bank and that they would be paid soon. He had no idea where he was going to get the money to pay them. In the end, it didn’t matter at all. His week was up and it wasn’t enough.

He had been so focused on getting the money and pretending like everything was fine that he didn’t write for his show. His show, which was so important to him that once upon a time he thought he would be fired over it not being up to par to his normally high standards, had been entirely forgotten. It was the least of his concerns. He only had three quarters of the money after pulling it from everywhere he could think of even lying to his own people. He had prayed to whatever holy force that the men would be satisfied and decide to spare him.

His show that night, the day of his deadline, would be entirely improv. He was getting ready in his dressing room, his hands shaking too much to get the teardrop on his other cheek to look right so he just left it as the one. His mind was spiraling. He hadn’t seen or heard anything about the men since. Perhaps they had forgotten about him, or even better they were killed by one of the other mafia. He breathed through the tightness in his chest. Out of all the places in the park that he’s been, the stage was where he had spent most of his time. That’s where he felt the safest, the audience being with him. He wouldn’t be alone, and that was assuring to him.

He breathed, in and out, focusing on becoming someone else. Someone a lot braver and bolder than he was. He went inside the big top tent, stepping onto the stage, the bright lights shining down on him. He took a bow, the audience clapped. He stood back up and his eyes made contact with someone sitting in with the crowd. It was the leader of that group of men. No, that wasn’t right. It was just someone who looked like the guy. His eyes were playing tricks on him because he was sleep deprived. They wouldn’t be here with all these people around. If they did come looking for him they would have waited for him outside the gates like they had done last time.

They both were looking at each other. The man clapped, a slight smile on his face. Jack the Joker grinned, thanking the audience for coming. He could feel the sweat begin to gather at his head. He had nothing prepared for what to say or do, he simply started talking about whatever came to his mind. He pulled a random story that he had written a long time ago but he never used it because he couldn’t come up with a good ending.

The story was about when he, the Joker, had run away from becoming a prince. He had rode far away from home on a horse. But when he stopped to rest, the horse had run away. He considered himself unlucky. But walking along the path on foot, he came across some farmers who had found his horse, and they were using it to steer their wagon. The farmers gave him a ride, and he considered himself lucky. But then it began to rain very heavily and the path became too muddy to continue. He considered himself unlucky. After it stopped raining, all the water filled a dried up stream bed. He and the farmers used the wagon to float down the river all the way to the next town. He considered himself lucky.

This was where the story had ended. As he was telling it, he thought about what could happen next to wrap it up nicely like all his other stories. But after telling it he realized that the story was perfect the way it was, as though it was always meant to be that way.

Jack used all of the fan favorite magic tricks for the latter half of the show. He produced flowers out of a wand, tossing them to an audience member, pulled apart connected metal rings with a flick of his wrist, and performed a dazzling and comedic light show with firecrackers. Even improvised, the audience loved him. They cheered his name as he took a bow. After everyone had made their way out of the tent, there was one person left.

The man slowly stood, clapping while he approached Jack on stage. The man said that he was impressed. He’d seen nothing quite like it before. Jack was frozen in place. He wanted to run but he knew that would just make it worse. He cleared his throat, saying that he had his money. From his coat pocket he produced a fat envelope. The man stepped onto the stage, snatching it from him and opening it. He looked through it, then looked at Jack, asking him if this was all. Jack swallowed, saying quietly that he couldn’t quite get all of it, though if they gave him more time he could make them the other quarter.

The man said that he had given him his chance already, and he was out of patience. He put the money back in its envelope, shouting for his men. As the thugs filed into the tent, Jack pleaded with him to just give him a little more time, just a little more patience and he would have it. He had nothing left in their account to give them, not his account, not the park’s account, he even stole what he did give him. The mafia surrounded him, grabbing hold of his arms and shoved him down to his knees.

The leader of the group tucked the envelope into the back of his pants, then produced a small, curved knife from his sleeve. He told him that for his trouble, and for putting on a great show, he would pay him back and show him mercy. He leaned down, grabbing Jack by his cheeks. Tears were spilling over his fear-filled eyes and causing his clown makeup to run. ‘Why so sad?’ The man asked him. ‘Turn that frown upside down.’

The man used his thumb and pulled the side of Jack’s mouth wide. He tried to thrash his head and crane his neck back, but one of the thugs grabbed him by the hair while the leader shoved his knife against his teeth, dragging the blade up. Jack screamed in horrific pain, and continued to scream when the man kept slowly pulling his knife further and further up his face. No one could hear him from outside over the sounds of the park.

After he was done carving one side of Jack’s face, he moved to the other side, forcing his mouth into a crude smile that went past his eyes. He was barely conscious by this point, his head bobbing around as though he were fighting sleep. All he could do was moan, the sound escaping his throat as a gurgle.

The man stood up and looked down at him, wiping the blood from his knife. Jack could see him talking, but he couldn’t hear the words. The men holding him let him go, and his body slumped over. The world seemed to move at a slower pace. He was getting cold, but he didn’t mind it. As he stared out through the entrance of the tent, everything had turned upside down. He was upside down, suspended by his feet above the stage. As his blood pooled to the back of his throat, Jack couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. His world was darkening, inviting him to join it. And he did.

His eyes flew open and he was instantly blinded by a bright white light. He winced, shutting them again. He went to cover them but he couldn’t move his hands. He could hear voices all around him, and as he tried to squint he was made acutely aware of the massive headache in his temples. Slowly his vision returned to him, and he realized that he wasn’t alone. He was surrounded by people, all wearing white coats, and they were staring at him. He was laying down on an uncomfortably flat table, his wrists and feet strapped down with a light over him shining in his face.

‘Can you understand us?’ He heard one of them ask. ‘Yes?’ He said confusedly. ‘Can you tell us your name? How do you feel?’ His eyebrows knitted together, his head pounding. They wanted to know his name? He’d only just woke up and he was being asked too many questions. ‘J- uh..’ He searched his mind for an answer but the pain only worsened. ‘Where am I?’ He said instead. ‘You’re in Arkham Asylum.’ The doctor answered.

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