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cressidagrey · 2 months ago

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The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Epilogue (The End)

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes:

Mention of epilepsy and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose.

And with that, we have reached the end. I could, as always, write a lot more, (And maybe eventually I will, but for right now, that's where we will leave Lando and Lizzie.)

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Twitch Stream Transcript – Max Fewtrell & Lando Norris

[Stream starts]

Max: Right, chat. I know we’ve been through a lot together. We’ve seen things. We’ve survived things. But I don’t think any of you are ready for what’s about to happen.

Max: Because, somehow, defying all expectations, defying all logic—Lando Norris is actually here.

Chat:

LIAR.

NO WAY.

PROVE IT.

MAX THIS BETTER NOT BE A PRERECORDED AI CLIP.

OH SO HE DOES EXIST.

IT’S BEEN 84 YEARS.

Lando: [over voice chat, deadpan] I hate you.

Max: Gasp. He speaks. It’s real. It’s happening.

Lando: You’re so dramatic.

Max: No, mate, I’m just telling it like it is. The last time we saw you, you were escaping the internet at full speed. Thought you retired. Went off the grid. Became a monk.

Lando: Yeah, well. Things got messy.

Max: Understatement of the year.

Chat:

YEAH NO KIDDING.

THE INTERNET WAS A NIGHTMARE.

LIZZIE DESERVED BETTER.

MARAAA OUR QUEEN.

THE ABLEISM WAS SO BAD.

LANDO DEFENDING HER >>>

Max: So, how’s Lizzie?

Lando: She’s good. Writing, mostly. And making sure I actually sleep.

Max: A saint.

Lando: Obviously.

Chat:

PROTECT HER AT ALL COSTS.

SHE NEEDS TO KNOW WE LOVE HER.

I WANT TO SEND HER FANMAIL BUT I’M SCARED.

MARA POST WHEN??

TELL LIZZIE SHE’S A QUEEN.

Max: But mate, you really should’ve warned me before hopping on. Nearly had a heart attack.

Lando: Didn’t think it was that big of a deal.

Max: Didn’t think it was—oh my god. Chat, back me up.

Chat:

IT IS A BIG DEAL.

HISTORIC MOMENT.

LORE DROP.

WE THOUGHT LIZZIE LOGGED YOU OUT FOREVER.

DO YOU EVEN REMEMBER YOUR TWITCH PASSWORD??

SHE PROBABLY DRAGGED HIM BACK HERE.

Lando: Actually, she’s in the kitchen right now.

Max: Oh, is she? What’s she doing?

Lando: Giving Mara peanut butter.

Max: …Oh no.

Lando: Yeah.

(And then, as if on cue, absolute chaos erupts in Lando’s mic—loud licking, snuffling, something knocking against furniture. A thump. A very happy dog making a complete racket.)

Max: WHAT IS HAPPENING.

Lando: [muffled laughter] She’s going feral.

Max: CHAT, DO YOU HEAR THIS?

Chat:

MARAAA.

SHE’S EATING LIKE SHE HASN’T BEEN FED IN YEARS.

DOG ASMR STREAM WHEN.

THAT’S THE SOUND OF A QUEEN ENJOYING LIFE.

SHE DESERVES EVERY BIT OF THAT PEANUT BUTTER.

Max: Mate. Your dog is losing it.

Lando: She loves peanut butter.

Max: Yeah, no kidding. It sounds like she’s wrestling it.

Lando: Wouldn’t surprise me.

Max: I swear, chat’s gonna riot if you don’t post a Mara video soon.

Lando: I’ll think about it.

Max: Think about it? No, mate, you don’t understand. Mara is the people’s princess.

Chat:

MARA FOR PRESIDENT.

SHE DESERVES THE WORLD.

THE WAY SHE’S JUST EXISTING AND WE’RE ALL LOSING IT.

THIS IS NOW A MARA FAN STREAM.

GIRLBOSS.

Max: You could literally disappear again for months, but if you drop one single Mara clip, all will be forgiven.

Lando: Huh. Good to know.

Max: Don’t even pretend like you won’t exploit that.

Lando: [grinning] Wouldn’t dream of it.

(Mara, still licking peanut butter, lets out an extremely content sigh.)

Max: Oh, that was adorable.

Lando: Yeah, she’s great.

Max: I can feel chat melting over this.

Chat:

SHE’S SO PRECIOUS.

LIZZIE AND MARA HARD CARRYING THE CONTENT RIGHT NOW.

MARA POST WHEN.

WE DON’T DESERVE HER.

SHE’S SO REAL FOR THIS.

Max: Right. Now that we’ve all had our emotional moment over Mara’s peanut butter obsession, shall we actually play the game?

Lando: Probably.

Max: But just so we’re clear—this stream peaked the moment Mara showed up.

Lando: Yeah, I figured.

(Chat spams heart emojis as the game finally begins.)

***

The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car PrinceBy June Shepard

Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton has built an empire on love stories—intoxicating, sweeping, heart-stopping love stories that have made her one of the most successful romantasy authors of the decade. Her Seasons of Fate series, a four-book saga filled with magic, intrigue, and forbidden romance, has captivated millions worldwide, cementing her place as the reigning queen of the genre.

But even her most devoted readers could never have predicted that she was living out a love story of her own. And certainly not with one of the biggest stars in motorsport.

When Lizzie Treshton walked into the Silverstone paddock in July 2025, hand-in-hand with McLaren’s Lando Norris, social media imploded.

No one had any idea they were together. No rumors, no leaks—just an earth-shattering confirmation that sent both F1 and romantasy Twitter into collective cardiac arrest.

"It wasn’t supposed to be a big thing," Treshton says now, curled up on a sofa in her Surrey flat, a steaming mug of tea in hand. "Lando was racing at Silverstone. I wanted to be there to support him. I didn’t think the world would explode."

Perhaps that was naive. Because if there’s one thing the world loves, it’s an unexpected crossover. And this? This was the ultimate crossover event.

Lando Norris has spent the last six years in the high-pressure world of Formula 1, balancing blistering lap times with an ever-growing fanbase that adores his mix of raw talent, easy charm, and chaotic humor. He’s no stranger to public scrutiny. But even he was caught off guard by the sheer scale of the reaction.

"I knew Lizzie was a big deal," he says, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. "But I didn’t fully grasp it until people started calling me ‘the romantasy book boyfriend of the year.’"

He grins. "I think my sisters are still mad I didn’t tell them who I was dating."

That particular detail has only added to the legend of "Lizzie & Lando." While Norris’s family knew he had a girlfriend, they had no idea it was that Lizzie Treshton—the very same author whose books they had lined up at midnight to buy. His sisters, self-proclaimed romantasy fanatics, took approximately thirty seconds to forgive him before launching into full-scale fangirl mode.

But not everyone has been as welcoming.

Almost immediately after Silverstone, the backlash began. While plenty of fans celebrated the unexpected pairing, others turned vicious. Some called Treshton “undeserving.” Others dismissed the relationship entirely, claiming Norris would eventually move on.

And then there were the ones who went after her health.

Treshton has always been open about living with epilepsy, discussing it occasionally in interviews and social media posts. But being open about something and having it dissected by millions of strangers are two very different things.

Some reactions were cruel—questioning Norris’s commitment, making sweeping judgments about Treshton’s ability to “keep up” with the fast-paced, jet-setting lifestyle of an F1 driver. Others were outright ableist, using her condition as a reason to doubt her place at his side.

Norris, uncharacteristically sharp in his response, took to Instagram. “The way some of you have spoken about Liz—the woman I love—is disgusting. There’s no other way to put it. You’ve taken something she has no control over and used it as an excuse to dehumanize her, to insult her, to act like she isn’t worthy of me.”

McLaren issued a formal statement condemning the backlash, while much of the grid rallied behind Treshton, with drivers like Lewis Hamilton and Charles Leclerc publicly voicing their support.

“It was disgusting,” Treshton says bluntly. “But not surprising.”

"I’ve lost people because of my epilepsy," Treshton says quietly, her fingers tightening around her mug. "People who couldn’t handle it. People who didn’t want to try."

Her mother was one of them.

Treshton doesn’t often talk about her mother, but when she does, it’s with a detachment that speaks of wounds long since buried. "She left when I was young," she says. "Said she couldn’t deal with it. So she didn’t."

She exhales slowly. "I learned early on that some people see epilepsy as an inconvenience. Like it makes you fragile. But it doesn’t make me less. And it sure as hell doesn’t make me unlovable."

Despite the backlash, Treshton and Norris remain unfazed. Their relationship, built away from the public eye, is stronger than the noise that surrounds it.

"Lando makes me feel safe," she admits. "Not in a way that makes me feel like I need protecting, but in a way that reminds me I don’t have to do everything alone."

For Norris, it’s simple. "She’s incredible," he says. "And I’m lucky to have her. End of story."

There’s something almost cinematic about the two of them. The bestselling author who spins love stories for a living. The racing driver who defies speed and gravity every weekend. It’s the kind of pairing that shouldn’t make sense. And yet, it does.

At the end of the day, theirs isn’t just a love story. It’s a story about resilience. About belonging. About choosing each other in a world that constantly tries to tear people down.

When asked what’s next, Treshton shrugs. “I have a book to finish. He has races to win. And beyond that?” She tilts her head, thoughtful. “I think we’ll just keep surprising people.”

One thing is clear: the queen of romantasy and her race car prince are far from a fleeting fairytale.

They’re just getting started.

****

8 December 2024, Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi

The moment Lando stepped out of the car, the world blurred around him. The cheers, the McLaren team swarming in orange, the fireworks—none of it felt real. He had won Abu Dhabi. He had won the Constructors’ Championship for McLaren. After years of dreaming, of heartbreak, of being so close yet so far—he had done it.

His mother reached him first, arms tight around his shoulders, holding him like she never wanted to let go. “Lando,” she breathed, pulling back just enough to look him in the eyes. “You’ve made so many people happy today.”

His father clapped a firm hand on his back, pride evident in his expression. His team, his engineers, Zak Brown—everyone was celebrating around him. But Lando was already searching for someone else.

And then he saw her.

Lizzie stood off to the side, wrapped in one of his McLaren jackets, Mara sitting dutifully at her feet. She looked exhausted, and he knew why. Just last night, she had suffered a seizure. He had been with her through it, waiting for the worst to pass. He had told her she didn’t have to come today, that she should stay at the hotel and rest.

But Lizzie was nothing if not stubborn.

Her gaze found his, and her face lit up like the fireworks lighting the sky outside.

He could see how tired she was, though, in the tightness around her eyes, the way her body was still a little stiff.

But she was here.

His feet moved before his brain caught up, and suddenly, she was in front of him, her hands reaching up to his face before he could say a word.

Her fingers traced over his skin, her tired eyes taking him in with a familiar, almost reverent look. It was as if she couldn’t believe he was real. Lando knew the feeling.

“Like I ever would have missed this,” she murmured before he could scold her for being out in the chaos of the paddock. Her thumbs brushed his cheekbones, her voice thick with emotion. “Lando, you did it. You actually did it.”

"You didn't need to come," he whispered. His hands came to rest on her waist, grounding himself. “I was worried about you.”

“And I was never going to miss watching you win,” she said simply, smiling up at him. “I am so proud of you.”

Lando let out a shaky breath.

Then, with the whole world watching, he kissed her.

It was soft, careful—his hands tightening on her waist like he was terrified she might disappear, like he still wasn’t sure if any of this was real. When he pulled back, her eyes were shining, and for the first time since he crossed the finish line, it hit him.

He had everything he had ever wanted.

****

Dedications of The Seasons of Fate:

A Spring of Secrets and Thorns

For Mara—

My steady ground, my quiet guardian, my fiercest protector.

For every unseen battle you’ve helped me fight, for every moment you’ve kept me safe, and for always being by my side—this book, like so much of my life, is possible because of you.

A Summer of Blood and Bloom

For Dad—

For every doctor’s appointment, every sleepless night, and every time you carried the weight of the world so I wouldn’t have to.

You taught me that love doesn’t walk away—it stays, it fights, and it endures. This book is a testament to that, and to you.

An Autumn of Fire and Stone

For Tasha and Aunt Lou—

For the sister I chose and the woman who made us family.

For every page read, every dream encouraged, and every time you reminded me that I was more than my worst days. I am who I am because I had you both beside me. I couldn’t have done this without you.

A Winter of Ash and Starlight

For Lando -

Who taught me that love, like speed, can take your breath away in an instant. You’ve turned the pages of my life in the most unexpected, beautiful way.

Thank you for showing me that sometimes the best stories are the ones you never saw coming.

Ours is my favourite one.

Acknowledgments – A Winter of Ash and Starlight

Writing this book, and really this entire series, has been one of the greatest joys of my life. I never imagined that a story I started one summer in my dad’s garden would turn into this, but here we are. I couldn’t have done it alone, and I wouldn’t have wanted to.

To my dad—thank you for everything. For the late-night talks, the endless encouragement, and the way you always made sure I knew I was enough, just as I am. You’ve been my rock, my biggest supporter, and the reason I never stopped believing I could do this.

To Aunt Lou—you are proof that family is about love, not blood. You didn’t have to be a mother to me, but chose to be anyway. I don’t have the words to properly thank you for that, but I hope you know how much I love you.

To Tasha—my sister in every way that matters. For always having my back, for every chaotic adventure, and for making sure I never forget who I am. You are my favorite person to cause trouble with.

To Mara—my best girl, my constant companion, my real-life guardian angel. You have been curled up beside me through every late-night writing session, every deadline panic, every high and low. There is no version of my life, or this book, without you in it.

This book marks the end of Astrid and Ciaran’s journey—the last chapter of their love story. And in a way, it closes a chapter of my own life, too. Love has a funny way of finding you when you least expect it, and just as I was bringing Astrid and Ciaran home, someone walked into my life and changed everything.

To Lando—who came into my life just as I was closing this chapter and somehow became the best story of all. I don’t know if fate is real, but if it is, I think it was always meant to bring me to you. You walked into my world when I wasn’t sure I deserved something good, and you have never let me forget that I do.

Thank you for every quiet moment and every inside joke. Thank you for the dino nuggets, the peanut butter and the Ferrari Dog Bandanas. Thank you for making me laugh, for making me feel safe, and for proving, every single day, that love isn’t about grand gestures, but about showing up, time and time again.

You have been the greatest plot twist of my life. I love you.

And finally, to the readers—thank you for taking this journey with me. Thank you for believing in Astrid and Ciaran, in fate and magic, in love that defies the odds. This world, this story, exists because of you.

Here’s to new stories, new adventures, and finding our own kind of magic. Always.

With love and endless gratitude, Elizabeth Louise Treshton

The End

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beiasluv · 1 year ago

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don’t you ever grow up | l. norris (4)

yourinsta’s story | landonorris’s story

maxfewtrell’s story

landonorris: you didn’t have to fact check me mate.

: no one or carlos is buying it mate, we know you’re just making excuses to spend time with yn

landonorris: not necessary to point out, at all 🙄

: of course

yourinsta: drive safely 😬

: he definitely arrived in one piece

yourinsta: good. McLaren still needs him.

: and you too?

message was not sent

: right away 🫡

f1gossips

liked by username, username and 25,926 others

f1gossips following the appearance of her son in the instagram story of landonorris, yn ln was spotted in the mclaren garage this morning.

credit to the video owner on twitter

view all 8,619 comments

username MOTHER (literally) is back in town

username Zak rn: 🧍‍♂️

username NO cause literally everytime she’s back in the paddock the whole team starts to work again 😭

username petition for yn to stay the whole season rn

username I miss archie with danny ric 😔✊

username IKR danny raised my boy

username NAH DONT DISCREDIT LANDO

username lando was the best uncle, fight me 🤷‍♂️

username i would never forgive what mclaren did to daniel ric, fight me 🤷‍♀️

username I’m sure Oscar’s going to be a great uncle as well 😔

username Y’ALL SEEN MAX FACT CHECKING LANDO? 😭

username rizz up that baby mommy‼️‼️

username carlos, once again, the scapegoat

username new here, Archie’s her son??

username yep. I’m guessing that she’s a single mom, we don’t know who the dad is

username she don’t need no man, SLAYYY

yourinsta

liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri and 281,146 others

yourinsta congratulations to both of you!! the team is proud of you guys! honored to finally witness it first hand this time!! landonorris oscarpiastri 🧡🙌

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oscarpiastri thank you! 👊 back to you

liked by yourinsta

landonorris thank you! 🍀🧡

username WHAT DID I FUCKING TOLD YOU?

username PETITION TO MOVE YN TO GARAGE FOR THE REST OF THE SEASON

username y’all are delusionalll the cars were meant for susuka

username DONTT CAREEE

username clover leaf. not slick LANDO

username ‘lucky charm’ my ASS

yourinsta

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yourinsta thank you uncle lando!!

view all 26,972 comments

landonorris anything for the favorite driver title! 👊

danielricciardo not fair, I brought him snacks

yourinsta so it WAS you

danielricciardo maybe 😬

mclaren favourite boy on the grid!!

liked by yourinsta

username I LITERALLY SAW HIM TODAY WITH YN!! too cute 😩

username HOW DOES IT FEEL TO LIVE MY DREAMM

username girly I would pay anything to be archie

username anyone coming back to this post after her sighting today 😭

username me 😔✊

username he grew up too fast

username I can’t BELIEVE that this was already one year ago

username ARCHIE STOP GROWING 😭

1 year ago

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell, carlossainz55 and 286,620 others

landonorris drivers by day, professional babysitters for life 👊

view all 107,269 comments

yourinsta thank you guys! dinner’s on me 🫡

landonorris anytime!

danielricciardo when’s the next time?

maxverstappen see you at p’s birthday 👊

carlossainz55 I have presents from spain 😄

yourinsta miss calos! -arch

yourinsta thankie!

liked by carlossainz55

username shut upp 😭😭 archie and p are best friends??

username i think they got to know each other through lando

username SHUT UP that’s fucking adorable my heart 😔😩

username it’s probably because they’ve spent so much time together at the paddock 😔🥺

username kudos to lando and everyone respecting yn’s decision to keep archie private

username i WOULD literally show off my son if he has lando, daniel and the whole grid as his uncles

username she’s protecting her child 🤷‍♀️

username ikr people. she’s not exploiting her child

yourinsta’s story

yourinsta

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yourinsta summer break!

view all 26,071 comments

danielricciardo how’s arch doing! love from aus!

yourinsta hi danny! miss you! -arch

danielricciardo aw bud! miss you too! tim tams are on their way!

yourinsta i love you but i cannot go through the Tim tams phase for breakfast, lunch and dinner again 😭

danielricciardo one pack? ��

yourinsta fine😔

charles_leclerc nice to see you in monaco! maman looks forward to see you both again soon!

yourinsta thank you! it was nice meeting her, glad she loved arch 😊

username I AM SO JEALOUS OF ARCHIE WHAT?? HE KNOWS THE LECLERC AS WELL 😭

username SO NO ONE is talking about her story.

username lando, you’re acting fishy ASF

username the flowers, even inviting her to monaco for the summer break? yeah, that’s obviously what drivers and their engineers do right?? 😩

username MAX tell us something WE DONT KNOW

username he thought he was slick by giving the flowers though archie huhhh? well played, lando

username I feel bad asf for oscar 😭

username shut UP oscar definitely ships them so bad

username EVERYTIME she appears in McLaren challenge, oscar just exits 😭

username lando, this is your warning cus yn is for the girls ‼️‼️

username IKR?? she has been slaying as a icon for so long, and I can’t handle the thought of her being with lando 😭😭

username let her be happy with who she wants? PEOPLE

username he is no longer going to be ‘uncle’ lando 😭😔

username GOOD DAY FOR ME 🦅🦅🦅🦅

username I’m sure they are mature enough 🤷‍♀️ she has been through archie's dad before. miss girl should know what she wants

username PREACH BESTIE

lando.jpg

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lando.png back to the seas 👊 yourinsta

view all 96,281 comments

yourinsta thanks for babysitting! 🤭

lando.png always 🙌

username he didn’t even bother to tag max and his friends LMAOOOO

username he’s got his priorities straight

username when’s the hard launch bestie.

username it’s coming, bestie, I COULD FEEL IT IN MY FUCKING BRAIN

username delulu is THE solulu, PREACHHH

landonorris

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen and 986,267 others

landonorris sorry guys :)

view all 320,159 comments

carlossainz55 congratulations, mate 👊

username A MOMENT OF SILENCE FOR THE SCAPEGOAT

yall ate the poll uppppp 🥺🫶🤪 slayed

if you liked it, interactions and COMMENTS would be appreciated!! if not, then yolo ig.

today’s a great day to take care of yourself!!

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dashamanych · 3 months ago

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What if it's all was just a game...

Hi there! I finally can create art again :3 im finally free and i WANT TO TELL YALL A LITTLE ABOUT MY SILLY DONT STARVE AU....

I just had a funny thought... what if there was no magic, no another dimensions, no real survival - what if its all was just imagination of a lonely boy Max (i thought it would be funnier if he'd name his edgy selfsona after himself, so he is not William there)...

He is a fifth grader with a very rich imagination and a rather unpleasant temper. I think one day he found a big notebook in a stationery store that had the first letter of his name on it (maybe it meant "Math," or maybe it was just one of those lame designs for cheap stationery), and just started to pretend that this is some sort of his magic book, lol! After a while, he came up with his own imaginary world where he was the edgy ahh king of nightmares MAXWELL!!!!! He drew all the monsters and stuff as well

But of course that wasnt enough....... He didn't have a very good relationship with his peers, I think. That's why he's exploiting someone younger! One day Max found Wilson, a random third grader, compliant enough to play his games. He came up with a lore for him, annnddd the just played their "don't starve" game, some kind of improvisation roleplay xd ????? Idk how i could call that in english

Sorry for bad translations english is not my mother language x')

Anddd of course there was a girl sitting at the same desk with him, and she really liked him!!! But he didn't seem to notice, because he was too caught up in his imaginary world 😥

Then, however, he will agree to write her as a character in his story!! He didnt know..... That someday shes going to appropriate his setting

"To spite Mom, I'll freeze off my ears."

That's all i have for a while! I'm pretty bad at describing things in words, and I prefer to show rather than tell! ^^" So forgive me being a bit awkward

#dont starve fanart #dont starve au #dst fanart #dst maxwell #dst wilson #wilson p higgsbury #william carter #🙂‍↕️i promise there will be normal content

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darkshrimpemotions · 5 months ago

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You know, the counter to criticism of John has always been "John did the best he could under those circumstances" but that argument REALLY falls apart hard when the show gives us multiple examples of other hunters who had kids and provided them with stable homes or at the very least, didn't abuse, neglect, and exploit their children to the degree John did.

Bill and Ellen Harvelle. Krissy's dad. Tasha Banes. Hell, Mary's parents, even.

Hunters are all traumatized people who've lost someone, and yet not all hunters with children left them alone in hotel rooms for days or weeks at a time without enough money or food, used them as bait for a shtriga or god knows what else (I haven't forgotten or forgiven Dead Man's Blood), put them in danger constantly, isolated them even from other hunters, or emotionally abused them to have no self worth and view "I'm proud of you" as a dangerously out of character statement from their parent.

Jo grew up safe at home with her mom, viewing her dad coming home as an occasion for joy. After her dad died, her mother tried EVERYTHING to keep Jo from hunting to keep her safe, and finally only started hunting again herself to protect Jo. Dean reminisces about "when dad got home" with a haunted look in his eyes. Dean was hunting werewolves at sixteen. When Sam was afraid of the thing in his closet, John gave him a .45.

Krissy wanted to be by her dad's side all the time. Her dad even quit hunting, laid down whatever reasons made him start, to give her a shot at a better life. Dean gets quiet and changes the subject when asked if he misses his dad. Sam's fondest memories are of getting away from John. John drove his kids nearly to death with his obsession. Spent Sam's college fund on ammo.

Max and Alicia Banes were part of a community. Their understanding of hunters' funerals included friends and family gathered to celebrate the life of the departed. Sam and Dean knew very few hunters before John died. They only knew how to grieve in isolated silence around a solitary pyre.

Mary grew up in a house. She slept warm in a bed in a room of her own. She had family dinners. When she said the worst thing she could imagine was her kids being raised like she was, she meant hunting by itself. And I'm not saying hunting is good or healthy! It's not.

But it was the worst thing she could imagine. She couldn't even imagine the abuse, neglect, deprivation, instability, and hunger her children would one day endur on top of hunting.

But sure, yeah. John definitely did the best he could under the circumstances.

#john winchester's a+ parenting #supernatural #dig him up so i can kill him again actually

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butterfly-lies-chase-them-away · 7 months ago

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Bunny (Part 3) - Health Ledger!Joker x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Joker x Fem!Reader Joker x Reader with Anxiety

Word Count: 12,588

Warnings: murder, Joker, minor age gap, police (ew)

Summary: Imma cut to the case, girly loses her car

(MASTERLIST) (Part Two) -

A/N: Hey...how yall doing... Sorry I kind of disappeared off the face of the earth for a little while...my bad, I have made a few posts explaining how my life's been a mess recently, so had to take a step back from all this for a while. I don't know how often I'll be able to update things/post, but I'll do my best with the time I had, it might just be a bit slow, sorry And thank you to everyone that reached out to me, it's so sweet to have you guys looking out for me and all that, thank you so much, it means the world and thanks for reading most importantly, it's good to see people enjoying my fics 💚 SO! it's been a while, but I hope I didn't disappoint :) Enjoy~

It had been over a week since Y/n had last seen Joker. A week since the night he brutally beat the shit out of Max, the image still lingered in her mind, as did his words. How he made it clear she wasn’t allowed to have anyone else in her life. After everything that happened, Y/n couldn't bring herself to attend classes. The risk felt too great, she didn’t want to anger Joker any more than she already had. She had been isolating herself in her dorm ever since, barely leaving except for quick trips to the bathroom or to grab food from the dining hall. It was as though the walls of her small room were closing in on her, and the world outside felt too dangerous to face.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if Joker had been around to break the monotony, to bring some kind of human interaction into her lonely routine. His presence, unpredictable as it was, might have been better than the suffocating silence. But then again, he was the one who had forced her into this isolation. Did she really want comfort from the same man who had made her feel trapped in the first place?

Well...yes. Yes, she did.

As much as she hated to admit it, Y/n missed him. Missed J. What if he was right? What if she truly didn’t need anyone else? After all, people had always made her feel uncomfortable, anxious. Except for Joker. Despite his chaos and unpredictability, he had a way of making her laugh, of making her feel seen and special. Strangely enough, there were moments when he even made her feel safe. And when she really thought about it, she only doubted him when he wasn’t around. It was in his absence that the questions and fears crept in. But when J was by her side, everything seemed brighter, more manageable. It was like her doubts evaporated in his presence, leaving behind only the spark he ignited in her.

She had no idea why he hadn’t called or shown up in the past week. Maybe he was busy with fuck knows what. Y/n had been avoiding the news along with people, deliberately shutting herself off from anything that might clue her in to Joker’s latest chaos. She hated hearing about his “exploits”, it made everything feel too real, too overwhelming, as if by hearing about his crimes, she became more entangled in his dark world. And she wanted to keep that part of her life as far away as possible.

But then a chilling thought crossed her mind. What if he was dead? Her heart skipped a beat, her chest tightening as her breathing grew ragged. Could that be it? Joker, her Joker, dead? No, it wasn’t possible. He was the Joker, larger than life, untouchable. But if that were true, then where was he? Where was her J?

Panic crept up her spine. The more she thought about it, the more her mind spiraled. If something had happened to him... no, she couldn’t let herself think like that. But still, the gnawing question lingered. Why hadn't he shown up? Why hadn't he called?

Y/n sighed deeply, closing her eyes as she curled up on her side. The bed, usually a place of solace, felt cold and unwelcoming tonight. Or, to be fair, every night. She just wanted—

“Leaving your window ajar? Bit dangerous in this society,” a familiar voice drawled, smooth yet taunting.

Y/n's heart skipped a beat, and her eyes flew open. She whipped around in her bed, gasping in disbelief. “J!” she cried out, her voice full of relief and joy.

Crouching in her window, Joker looked as mischievous as ever, his signature grin stretching across his face. His sharp eyes glittered as he swung one leg inside, then the other, landing silently on her floor. He stood there, his frame casting a shadow across the room, but there was an undeniable magnetism in his presence. He radiated danger and yet, to her, there was comfort in seeing him, as twisted as that comfort was.

"You missed me, Bunny?" he smirked, straightening up as he sauntered over to her bed.

Y/n didn’t hesitate. She shot up from her bed, her feet barely touching the floor before she rushed across the room and threw herself into Joker's arms. The moment she felt his grip tighten around her, it was as if the weight she'd been carrying all week lifted. She buried her face in his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him, a strange mix of cologne, smoke, and something undeniably Joker.

“Miss me that much, huh?” he teased, his voice low and amused as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her firmly against him.

Y/n sighed deeply against his chest, a sense of relief flooding through her as she melted into his embrace. The loneliness and emptiness that had weighed her down for days seemed to evaporate the moment he returned. With Joker there, her once dull, lifeless room suddenly felt vibrant and alive again, his mere presence filling the space with an intensity only he could bring.

"Where have you been?" Y/n asked softly, her voice muffled as she kept her face pressed into his chest.

"You know...around," Joker replied casually, his voice as nonchalant as ever.

Despite the vague and careless answer, Y/n found that she didn’t really care. Not right now. All that mattered was that he was here, in her arms again, filling the emptiness she had felt all week.

"And I come bearing gifts," Joker's voice took on a playful edge. He reached behind his back, pulling something out from beneath his coat with a dramatic flourish. In his hand, a bouquet of flowers appeared. Slightly wilted, the petals crushed from being stuffed behind his back, but flowers nonetheless. "Flowers," he declared with a crooked grin.

Y/n couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her as she accepted the bouquet. "A little beaten up, but still lovely. Thank you."

Joker leaned in closer, his smirk deepening. "Had to put them somewhere while I climbed up here. Couldn't exactly carry them in my teeth." He said, baring his stained teeth.

Y/n blinked at him in disbelief, her heart doing a small flip at the thought. "Why in the fuck would you climb up here? I live on the fourth floor!"

Joker shrugged, clearly unfazed. "Keeps me sharp. Plus, I like to keep things...interesting."

Y/n shook her head, a mixture of amusement and disbelief running through her. Of course, Joker would think scaling a building was a fun way to make an entrance. It was reckless, just like him, but that same unpredictability was what made him so captivating to her.

Y/n carefully placed the flowers on her bedside table, their slightly crumpled petals a reminder of Joker's unconventional affection. She turned back to him, her fingers curling around his wrist as she gently tugged him toward the bed.

Without missing a beat, Joker kicked off his shoes, the movement fluid and practiced, as if he’d done it countless times before. He climbed onto the bed, settling down with a casual ease. Sitting up for a moment, Joker shrugged off his coat, tossing it to the floor, then stretched out his arms, inviting Y/n into his embrace.

Without hesitation, she slipped into his arms, pressing her cheek against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat was a strange comfort to her, a grounding presence in the chaos he always seemed to carry with him. Joker sighed, letting his head fall back against the pillow, his fingers lazily tracing the curve of her back.

"You uhh...haven’t left your dorm in a while, have you, Bunny?" Joker’s voice was casual, but the question was laced with an undertone of curiosity.

Y/n froze for a second, the truth settling heavily in the space between them. She shook her head slowly, not wanting to delve into the reasons why.

Joker tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at her. "Wanna tell J why?" he asked, his tone almost coaxing.

Instead of answering, Y/n only shrugged, burrowing deeper into his chest, as though she could make herself disappear within his arms. The weight of everything she had bottled up, the isolation, the fear, the confusion, it was too much to put into words. All she wanted in that moment was to feel small, safe, and sheltered from the overwhelming reality pressing down on her.

Joker let his fingers gently stroke Y/n’s head, his touch both soothing and reassuring. The room was quiet except for the rhythmic sound of their breathing and the occasional creak of the bed as Joker shifted slightly.

“Come on,” Joker began after a moment, his voice a soft murmur against the silence, “tell J.”

Y/n remained nestled against him, her voice barely a whisper. “I just...I didn’t feel like leaving. Things got complicated, and I didn’t want to risk…I don’t know, making things worse.”

Joker’s expression softened slightly, though his playful smirk remained. “Complicated, huh?”

Y/n nodded against his chest, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as if it were a lifeline. “Yeah. It’s been hard, trying to make sense of everything. And...I guess I’ve been scared.”

Joker’s hand slid up to cup her cheek, tilting her face up slightly so he could meet her eyes. “Scared of what, Bunny?”

Y/n swallowed hard, feeling the lump in her throat. “Scared of...disappointing you...And of you being angry.”

Joker’s gaze softened further, and he pulled her even closer. “Hey, you don’t need to be scared. Not with me, Doll. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m certainly not gonna hurt you. Not a chance.”

Y/n looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and lingering worry. “But sometimes, you make me feel like I’m walking a tightrope…Like I can’t breathe.”

Joker’s fingers traced gently along her jawline, his touch tender despite the intensity of his gaze. “I get it. I do. Sometimes I…push too hard, and…” he sighed, rolling his eyes, not wanting to admit it. “It’s not always about what’s best for you. But remember, Bunny, you’re mine. And I don’t just mean that in some possessive sense. I mean it in a way that means I care about you…Even if I don’t always show it the right way.”

She managed a small, appreciative smile. “I know. It’s just hard to balance everything.”

Joker’s eyes softened, and he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “We’ll find that balance together, yeah? Just you and me on that little tightrope of yours. And maybe, if you’re willing…We can…talk more about what’s been going on. Mhmm?”

Y/n nodded, feeling the warmth of his words and his presence. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to fully relax into his embrace. For now, the world outside seemed far away, and in this moment, it was enough to simply be held by him.

“Will you stay the night? Please?” Y/n asked, her voice soft and pleading as she snuggled closer to him, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt.

Joker’s eyes dropped to her, his expression shifting from his usual playful mask to something softer, yet still tinged with mischief. He raised an eyebrow and gave a theatrical sigh. “What, in this tiny little bed?” he teased, casting an exaggerated glance around the small space.

Y/n’s heart sank slightly, but she maintained her hopeful gaze, her eyes glistening with a mixture of hope and anxiety. “Yes, please. Just tonight.”

Joker’s smirk widened, and he gave a dramatic shrug as if considering the request. “Oh, alright,” he said, with a hint of reluctance. “But only because I’ve missed you too.”

He shifted, making himself more comfortable on the small bed, adjusting his position so that he could hold her more securely. His playful demeanour didn’t fully mask the warmth in his eyes, which softened as he looked at her.

As Y/n settled into the crook of Joker’s arm, her breathing began to even out, the steady rhythm of her chest rising and falling in a peaceful cadence. Joker watched her with a mix of tenderness and fascination, his usual chaotic energy replaced by a rare, serene calm. Her face, softened by sleep, was framed by stray strands of hair that had fallen across her forehead.

He carefully adjusted his position, making sure not to disturb her slumber. With a gentle touch, he reached over to pull the covers up over both of them, tucking it snugly around their bodies. The soft rustling of the fabric was the only sound that filled the quiet room, a stark contrast to the loud chaos of their usual lives.

Joker’s eyes remained fixed on her for a moment longer, taking in the sight of her so serene and vulnerable. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm light over her face, highlighting the delicate features that had become so familiar to him. He couldn’t help but let out a quiet sigh, a rare moment of contentment washing over him as he admired her.

Once he was satisfied that they were comfortably covered, Joker finally allowed himself to relax. He shifted slightly, arranging himself so that he could hold her close, feeling the comforting weight of her against him. With one last glance at her peaceful face, he closed his eyes, letting himself drift off into sleep.

It was a rare and almost mythical sight. Joker sleeping. Sleep was a luxury he seldom afforded himself, a mere afterthought in the whirlwind of his life. His existence was a constant rush of adrenaline and chaos, where sleep was more of an inconvenience than a necessity. Yet, tonight was different. Tonight, the demands of his chaotic world seemed to dissolve, if only for a brief moment.

As he lay beside Y/n, the darkness of the room enveloped them in a cocoon of calm. The usual sharpness in his features softened in sleep, his furrowed brow easing into an uncharacteristic serenity. The once restless energy that drove him now lay dormant, replaced by a quietude that felt both foreign and oddly comforting.

He allowed himself this rare indulgence, surrendering to the soothing rhythm of Y/n's breathing and the gentle warmth of her presence. For tonight, he set aside the complexities of his world and the incessant ticking of his internal clock. This rare pause from his relentless pursuits, was all for her.

For his Bunny, he was willing to grant himself this brief escape, allowing the world outside to fade into the background, leaving only the serenity of their shared night.

Y/n stirred awake slowly, feeling an unfamiliar warmth around her. Blinking against the soft light shining through the window, she realised she was still tucked in Joker's arms. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm beneath her cheek, the sound of his heartbeat oddly soothing. For a brief moment, everything felt surreal. Joker, the Joker, lay sleeping peacefully beside her.

She tilted her head slightly to look at him, taking in the sight of his face softened by sleep. The sharp edges of his usual expression were gone, replaced by something almost...human. His arm was wrapped securely around her waist, holding her close as if even in sleep, he wasn’t ready to let her go.

Y/n’s heart swelled with a mix of emotions. Relief, tenderness, and a quiet sense of disbelief. She never expected to wake up like this, cradled in the arms of a man so dangerous and unpredictable, yet, in this moment, he felt like a safe harbour in the storm.

As she shifted slightly to get more comfortable, his grip tightened instinctively, pulling her closer as if he could sense she was awake. A small smile tugged at her lips, and for the first time in a while, she felt a flicker of peace. Being with him might have been turbulent, but in moments like this, when it was just the two of them, the world seemed to pause.

"You're still here," she whispered softly, half to herself.

Joker didn’t stir, still lost in the rare tranquillity of sleep. Y/n snuggled back into his embrace, her body relaxing against him once more, savouring the fleeting moment of calm before reality inevitably caught up with them again.

Y/n gazed up at Joker’s sleeping face, her heart swelling with a strange mix of emotions. There was something captivating about him like this. Vulnerable, peaceful. It was a rare sight, one she had never quite imagined she'd be lucky enough to witness. He looked so different without the tension he carried when he was awake. His sharp features, which usually wore a wicked grin, now seemed softer, almost innocent in the quiet of the morning. Well, they would be, if not for his makeup.

For a moment, she couldn’t help but think back to a week ago when she had almost seen him without his makeup for the first time. That day, everything had been different. He had been furious. She didn’t wanted the first time seeing his bare face to be like that, so she simply did not look.

But now, in this stillness, Y/n found herself longing to truly see him. His makeup had always been a mask, a barrier between the world and the man underneath. What did he look like when he wasn’t the Joker, when he wasn’t playing the part of Gotham’s most dangerous criminal? She had seen glimpses, but it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t right. She wanted to see him in a way that felt personal, intimate, something shared between just the two of them.

Her hand twitched, tempted to reach up and trace the lines of his face, to wipe away the remnants of his painted mask. She wondered what it would be like to see him with nothing to hide behind, no makeup, no games. Would he let her? Could she ask him? The thought made her pulse quicken, a mixture of curiosity and nervousness rising in her chest.

“Staring at me while I sleep, huh?” he rasped, his voice husky from sleep.

Y/n’s breath hitched as his eyes opened, their familiar intensity returning as they focused on her. His lips curled into a lazy smirk, amusement flickering in his gaze. Y/n blushed, caught in the act. She quickly glanced away but didn’t pull back from his embrace.

“I just…I’ve never really seen you like this before,” she whispered, her fingers lightly resting on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

“Well, don’t get used to this,” Joker said, a teasing edge to his voice as he noticed Y/n’s pout.

Y/n’s eyes remained fixed on his face, captivated despite the conversation. Joker’s brow raised as he caught her intense gaze. “Got a staring problem?” he asked, amusement lacing his tone.

Y/n hesitated, her words tangled in her throat. “I just…” she started, struggling to find the right way to express her feelings.

Joker’s eyes softened slightly, and he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her cheek. “It’s the face paint, isn’t it?” he guessed, his tone almost affectionate as he read her with an unsettling accuracy.

Y/n’s heart fluttered, and she nodded, not hesitating. “Yeah,” she admitted softly.

Joker’s smirk widened, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “You had your chance, remember? But you wouldn’t look at me,” he teased, fake pouting.

Y/n bit her lip, her gaze returning to his. “I didn’t want to…not when you were angry with me,” she admitted. “I didn’t want that to be the first time I saw you. But now…I want to see you.”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Joker said with a smirk, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“But satisfaction brought it back?” Y/n ventured, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she searched his face for clues.

Joker leaned in closer, the proximity causing Y/n’s breath to catch in her throat. His gaze lingered on her lips, and she let out a soft gasp, feeling the heat of his presence. “Have I satisfied you yet, Bunny?” he asked, his voice dropping to a seductive murmur.

The air between them crackled with an almost tangible tension, thick with an electric charge that seemed to pulse with every breath. Y/n felt a rush of warmth spreading beneath her skin, a heat that was both exciting and unsettling. Her heart raced in response to the intimacy of their closeness, each beat echoing in her ears. Every subtle shift in Joker's gaze and every brush of his breath against her skin amplified the sensation, making it feel like a live wire against her nerves. The intensity of his presence was overwhelming, stirring a mixture of longing and apprehension that made the moment feel almost unbearable in its potency.

Despite the charged atmosphere, she had to be honest. “Well, no…I want to see your face,” she admitted, breaking the spell of the moment.

Joker’s dramatic eye roll and the click of his tongue were almost theatrical. He pulled back, the playful irritation clear in his expression.

For a moment, Joker said nothing, just watching her with that unnerving intensity of his. Then, he let out a low chuckle, his thumb brushing along her jawline. “You’re full of surprises, Bunny.” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin, this time, it wasn’t lustful, but gentle. “But if you want to see me…you’re gonna have to be ready for what comes with it. Think you can handle that?”

Y/n paused, mulling over Joker's words. What did he mean by that? What was the consequence of seeing him without makeup? Doubts began to creep into her mind. Did she really want this? Was it worth the uncertainty?

Joker noticed the turmoil written all over her face. With a heavy sigh, he reached out and gently patted her head, breaking the spell of her thoughts. “Not today, Bunny,” he said softly.

Y/n nodded, a resigned understanding settling over her. She could wait a little longer.

Joker then slid off the bed, retrieving his coat from the floor and slipping it on. He shoved his feet into his shoes with little care. “Gotta go, Bunny.”

“You just woke up,” Y/n said, confused.

“Well, crime isn’t going to commit itself,” Joker replied, holding his arms up like it was obvious.

Y/n frowned, but Joker just rolled his eyes. “I ain’t never been a saint. Don’t act like that.”

She sighed and sank back into her bed, feeling the emptiness left by his soon to be departure. Joker leaned over her, his face close, but his expression softened.

“I’ll stop by tomorrow, hmm?” he said, pulling his lips back, waiting for her answer.

Y/n managed a small smile and nodded in agreement. Joker responded with his trademark grin, placing a quick, playful peck on her lips before pulling away with a pop.

“Until then, Bunny,” Joker said, his tone light as he strutted to the window.

“You’re not seriously leaving through my window in broad daylight!” Y/n exclaimed, disbelief in her voice.

“Bye bye!” Joker said with a playful wave, completely ignoring her protests as he made his exit.

Y/n scoffed, reflecting on how it was a miracle Joker had never been caught. Hell, it was a surprise she hadn’t been caught up in his world herself. But dwelling on that was pointless.

As she lay in bed, she realized how much Joker’s presence had lifted her spirits. She hadn't felt this good in ages. In fact, she felt an unexpected surge of motivation. Not enough to drag her to her classes, but certainly enough to get out of her room.

Determined to make the most of her newfound energy, Y/n pushed herself off the bed and began getting ready for the day.

Sitting in her car, Y/n surprised at how far she’d come. She hadn’t expected her motivation to last her this long, but a sense of satisfaction and excitement bubbled up within her. The day ahead was a blank canvas, she wasn’t sure what she’d do, but with the wads of cash Joker had given her, she was confident she’d find something worthwhile in the city of Gotham.

Turning the key in the ignition, the engine roared to life with a reassuring hum. As she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the streets, the city’s pulse seemed to sync with the beat of her heart. Gotham’s towering buildings and neon lights flashed past her as she drove, a blend of curiosity and anticipation guiding her through the city maze. She was ready to explore, ready to embrace whatever the day had in store.

Or, you know…just take it easy.

Y/n decided to park her car in a quieter part of the city, if that even existed. She wandered towards the waterfront, drawn by the promise of calm against the backdrop of the city’s frenetic pace. The unfamiliar sun cast a warm glow over the water, and the gentle breeze carried the scent of the polluted sea. She found a little ice cream stand nestled on the waterfront, its colourful display tempting her with a variety of flavours. After scanning the options, she chose simple chocolate. Ordering was easy enough, she barely even hesitated with her words.

With her ice cream in hand, Y/n strolled along the waterfront, savouring each lick of her treat. The rhythmic sound of waves lapping against the shore was soothing, even if the sound was momentarily interrupted by rubbish washing up along with it.

She watched families and couples enjoying their day, feeling a sense of normalcy and contentment she hadn’t experienced in a while. For a few moments, she let herself be immersed in the simple pleasure of the afternoon, enjoying the sweet taste of freedom and the soothing ambiance of the waterfront.

As Y/n continued to stroll along the waterfront, the initial thrill of her outing began to wane. The gentle breeze and the pleasant scenery no longer held her attention as they had at the start. Instead, a sense of weariness started to creep in. The excitement of walking around Gotham’s and the novelty of her day out were giving way to a quiet longing for the comfort of her own space.

She finished her ice cream, the last few drops of chocolate lingering on her fingers. The sun was beginning its early descent, casting long shadows across the boardwalk and signalling the end of a day well spent. Yet, Y/n found herself feeling more tired than refreshed. The energy that had once drove her spirits was fading, replaced by a growing desire to return to the familiarity and solace of her dorm room.

With a sigh, she turned away from the waterfront and started making her way back to her car. Her steps were slower now, her earlier enthusiasm replaced by a comfortable, if slightly melancholic, fatigue. The dull cityscape blurred into the background as her mind shifted to the thought of sinking into her bed and enjoying the peace of her own space.

As Y/n reached her parked car and began to pull her keys from her pocket, she suddenly felt a heavy pressure on her back. A chilling presence loomed behind her, sending a jolt of fear and anxiety through her entire body.

"Give me the keys," a gravelly voice demanded.

Her breath caught in her throat as she glanced over her shoulder. The dim glow of the streetlights revealed the glint of a handgun, hidden in the man's jacket but now pressed against her back. Trembling, she nodded and, with a shaky hand, retrieved the keys from her pocket. Her heart pounded in her chest as she slowly extended her arm, letting the keys drop into his outstretched hand.

With a rough, demanding grip, the man seized her shoulder and shoved her aside. Y/n stumbled and fell to the ground, her palms scraping against the pavement. The world seemed to blur as panic surged through her veins, her mind racing with shock and fear.

Y/n watched in stunned silence as the man sped away in her car, its engine roaring defiantly as it disappeared down the street. The reality of the situation sank in with a harsh, bitter sting. Her heart pounded as she pushed herself off the ground, her hands shaking as she brushed dirt from her clothes.

“...Fuck,” she said, with a shaky breath.

She stood up and began walking, her steps heavy and sluggish. The streets seemed endless, stretching out before her as she trudged along. With each step, her mind was a whirlpool of thoughts and worries. How was she going to explain this to Joker? The thought of confronting him, of admitting she’d lost his gift, filled her with dread.

She imagined Joker’s reaction. His anger, his disappointment, the sharp, biting words he might hurl at her. The fear of what he might do to her for failing to keep his gift safe weighed heavily on her shoulders. She’d already been through so much, and the thought of facing his potential wrath was almost too much to bear.

Y/n’s footsteps echoed through the quiet streets as she trudged on, the cold night air biting at her skin. The glow of the streetlights offered little comfort, casting long, eerie shadows that seemed to mock her misfortune. She glanced down, wishing for a miracle or some kind of way to fix the situation before it reached Joker’s ears.

The sense of dread continued to gnaw at her, each step furthering her anxiety. How could she face Joker and tell him that his precious gift was now gone? The thought of his reaction, the potential fallout, was overwhelming. All she wanted was to get home, to crawl into bed, and to forget about the chaos of the night.

So much for feeling good. Y/n was restless throughout the night, her nerves frayed and her mind a whirlwind of anxiety. Despite the fleeting sense of fear she had of Joker showing up, sleep eluded her. She had half-expected Joker to storm through her door at any moment, demanding answers about her missing car, but the anticipated confrontation never happened.

As the hours ticked by, the night passed in a blur of fitful tossing and turning. The following day dawned with a heavy weight of dread. Y/n managed to get through the day without a single sign of Joker. Yet, the silence only heightened her apprehension. She knew deep down that he would come eventually, and she would have to face him. The thought of revealing the truth and dealing with the consequences loomed over her like a dark cloud, but she knew she’d have to deal with it.

Right on cue, the dorm door creaked open, and Joker’s voice boomed through the small room. "Honey, I'm home!" His tone was playful, but Y/n couldn't muster a smile.

Sitting on her bed with her legs crossed, she stared down at her hands, sniffling softly. Joker frowned, the door slamming shut with a careless kick as he stepped further inside.

"Bunny?" he called, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

Another sniffle escaped her, and without hesitation, Joker crossed the room, crouching in front of her. Gently, he tilted her chin up with a light touch, forcing her to meet his gaze. Her face was red and blotchy, eyes puffy, and lips swollen from crying. His brows furrowed, and he sat on the edge of the bed, leaning in closer.

"Hey, Bunny...what's with the tears?" His words were casual, but the concern in his voice was unmistakable.

Y/n swallowed, tears still threatening to spill over. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Joker’s eyes narrowed slightly. "What’d you do?" His voice was softer now, but his curiosity was piqued.

"I...I lost my car." The words came out between sobs, her shoulders trembling with the weight of them.

Joker blinked, processing. He leaned back a little, brow arching. "Lost it? What? In a bet or something? Just tell me who, and I’ll get it back. Hell, I can get you a new one if you want." He grinned, trying to brush it off, thinking it couldn’t be that serious.

But Y/n shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "No...some guy stole it. He had a gun, J. He made me give him the keys..." Her voice cracked, and she buried her face in her hands, overwhelmed with guilt and fear.

Joker froze for a second, the lightheartedness vanishing from his expression. He studied her, the anger building beneath the surface, though his tone remained calm. "He had a gun?"

“I’m sorry, J. I didn’t mean to…” Y/n's voice was muffled by her hands as she cried, her body trembling.

Joker's jaw clenched, a dangerous fire flickering in his eyes. Someone threatened his Bunny. Someone had dared to put a gun to her, to take something from her, which ultimately meant taking from him.

His hands balled into fists at his sides, the knuckles whitening from the sheer force of his anger. It wasn’t the car that mattered, it was the audacity of it all. Someone had made her feel vulnerable, scared, and Joker couldn’t stomach that. His rage simmered, barely contained, but he knew he had to keep it together for her.

Leaning forward, he gently peeled her hands away from her face, forcing her to look up at him. His grip, though firm, was tender in a way that was reserved only for her. “Look at me,” he said, his voice low and dangerous but laced with an unusual gentleness. "This wasn’t your fault. You hear me?"

Y/n nodded weakly, her tear-streaked face still full of guilt.

Joker's thumb brushed away a stray tear from her cheek, his gaze softening for a brief moment. “No one touches what’s mine,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to her. The intensity in his eyes darkened, a promise of vengeance. “I’ll make sure whoever did this regrets ever breathing near you.”

Her lip quivered. "But…"

"No 'but's, Bunny. You did what you had to. They had a gun, you did the smart thing." His words were laced with conviction, his eyes burning with a wild resolve.

Joker tilted her chin again, this time with a smirk creeping back onto his face. “And when I find this guy, well…” He chuckled darkly. “He’ll be wishing he never woke up this morning.”

Y/n swallowed hard, feeling a mix of comfort and fear at his words. She knew Joker well enough to know that he wasn't bluffing. Whoever had taken her car wouldn’t just lose the car; they'd lose much more.

He leaned closer, his lips grazing her temple, whispering against her skin, “You’re mine, Bunny. And I protect what's mine.”

She nodded again, feeling her pulse quicken under his possessive words. As dangerous as he was, she couldn't deny the sense of safety that came from his presence. The world outside might have been chaos, but in Joker's arms, she felt like nothing could touch her.

"Now," Joker continued, pulling back slightly, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Tell J however much you remember, mhmm?” His smirk widened, and for the first time since the carjacking, Y/n managed a small, shaky smile.

Y/n took a shaky breath, wiping the remnants of tears from her cheeks as she tried to gather her thoughts. “It all happened so fast,” she began, her voice still trembling. “I had just finished walking around and was heading back to my car. It was parked by the waterfront, you know? And...and then this guy came out of nowhere.”

Joker’s eyes narrowed as he listened, already piecing together what little information he could. His patience wasn’t exactly legendary, but when it came to her, he could wait. He needed the details.

“He…he had a gun,” Y/n continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t even notice him at first until he was behind me…and he put the gun to my back. He told me to give him the keys, and I-” She stopped, her voice breaking. “I just handed them over. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Joker’s jaw clenched, but he remained silent, letting her continue.

“He was tall, I think? I didn’t get a good look at his face…he had a hoodie on, dark clothes…But that’s all I remember.” Y/n shook her head, clearly frustrated with herself. “I’m sorry, J. I didn’t see more.”

Joker stroked his chin, eyes narrowing in thought. Tall. Hoodie. Waterfront. It wasn’t much to work with, not nearly as much as he liked. He hated operating blind. But he wasn’t about to let that stop him. He’d figured out worse with less, and for his Bunny, he’d make it work.

His mind raced, already formulating a plan. He knew the city like the back of his hand, knew the gangs, the small-time crooks, the desperate ones who operated in the shadows. He could already think of a few places to start looking.

Joker exhaled through his nose, a humourless grin forming on his lips as he looked down at Y/n. “Not much, huh? You’d think these idiots would be more creative.” He rubbed her arm, the action strangely soothing despite the edge in his tone. “But don’t worry, Bunny. I’ll figure it out.”

She looked up at him, her eyes full of uncertainty, but there was something else there too. Relief. Relief that he was taking control of the situation. That, in his own chaotic way, he was there for her.

Joker chuckled, his expression dark and predatory. “Oh, I’ll find this guy. And when I do, he’s gonna wish he never crossed paths with us.” His thumb brushed across her cheek, the intensity in his eyes growing. “No one messes with you and gets away with it.”

Y/n nodded, trusting him. Joker always found a way to get what he wanted, and she knew, without a doubt, that whoever had taken her car wasn’t going to have a good day when Joker finally caught up to him.

Joker hopped up off the bed with a sudden burst of energy. “Imma make a quick call, okay, Doll?” He shot her a grin before heading to the window. Just as he reached it, he turned back to her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “And uh…block your ears,” he added.

Y/n didn’t need any convincing. She pressed her fingers firmly into her ears, muffling the sounds of the room, watching as Joker leaned halfway out the window to make his call. The sight of him there, trying to be all business while hanging out of her dorm window, was almost comical. It was clear he was doing it to keep her from overhearing the conversation, though she wasn’t sure if it was more for her safety or his secrets.

Whatever he was saying, the call didn’t last long. After a minute or two, he pulled the phone from his ear, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He slipped the phone back into his coat pocket and made his way back over to Y/n.

“And now,” he declared dramatically, “I’m all yours.” Without warning, he flopped onto the bed, half-crushing her under his weight, his arms draped lazily around her.

Y/n couldn’t help but giggle at the suddenness of it all, her chest filling with warmth as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him close. It felt nice, almost normal in a way that contradicted everything about them. But that was what she loved.

Joker rested his head against her, and for a moment, they simply lay there, the world outside her dorm fading away. In this small, stolen moment, it was just them, and Y/n let herself get lost in that, even if she knew it wouldn’t last forever.

Joker sprawled out across Y/n’s bed, one arm lazily draped around her waist while his other hand absentmindedly twirled a strand of her hair between his fingers. Y/n leaned into his touch, letting herself sink into the moment, but a thought nagged at the back of her mind.

After a few minutes of silence, she spoke up, her voice quiet but insistent. "You know, J...maybe you should give me some way to contact you."

Joker raised an eyebrow but didn’t turn to look at her. Instead, he continued playing with her hair, his body still relaxed. “Oh, yeah? Why’s that, Bunny?” His voice was playful.

Y/n sighed, shifting a little in his arms so she could look up at him. "I can’t keep sitting around wondering when you’re going to show up next. What if I need you? Or...just want to see you?"

Joker’s fingers paused for a second, and his eyes flicked down to meet hers. “Hmm...that’s cute. Really, it is.” He pulled himself up a bit, propping himself on one elbow, his face closer to hers now. “But here’s the thing, Doll...You can’t have my number. Or anything like that.”

Y/n frowned, confused. “Why not?” She felt like a desperate fling, constantly begging for something more, but never quite getting it.

Joker’s smirk grew, but his eyes darkened with a touch of seriousness. He leaned in closer, brushing his lips against her ear as he whispered, “Because, Bunny, I can’t risk someone finding out that you’re in contact with me.”

She pulled back slightly, trying to meet his gaze face on. “You think someone would track me down? Just because I can reach you?”

Joker let out a low chuckle, but his expression remained cold. “Not just someone. Everyone. The moment they sniff out a little…connection between us, you’ll be in the spotlight, and trust me...” He paused, trailing his finger lightly down her cheek. “You don’t want that kind of attention. You’d be in a lot more danger than losing a car, sweetheart.”

Y/n’s stomach flipped at his words, her mind racing. He was right, of course. She didn’t want to be linked to the Joker. Not publicly, anyway. But the frustration lingered.

"I just...hate waiting. Not knowing when I'll see you again."

Joker tilted her chin up gently. "I know, Bunny. But this is how it’s gotta be. You trust me, don’t cha?" His voice was a mix of teasing and sincerity, but she could hear the edge of caution beneath it.

Y/n nodded, letting out a quiet sigh. She did trust him, but it didn’t make the situation any less frustrating. "I trust you...It's just hard."

Joker’s grin returned, a flash of teeth as he pulled her closer. "I’ll pop in when you least expect it, like always. Keep things interesting."

Y/n managed a small smile at that, though part of her still wished she could have some control over when they’d see each other. But deep down, she knew he was right. If anyone found out about her connection to him, her life would spiral into danger even more than it already had.

For now, she had to accept that this was how it would always be unpredictable, chaotic, and entirely on his terms. But somehow, being wrapped up in his arms made it feel a little more bearable.

A couple of hours passed, with Joker and Y/n sprawled out on her bed in a comfortable silence. Joker had been unusually calm, his arms wrapped loosely around her, while she rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. She assumed he was thinking, but she liked the think he was relaxing, just a time of peace between them. But this peace couldn’t last forever.

Eventually, Joker stirred, shifting beneath her. “Alright, Bunny,” he muttered, slipping out from her hold. “Time for me to bounce.”

Y/n propped herself up on her elbows, watching him. She didn’t want him to leave, but she knew better than to say it out loud. “Already?” she asked quietly, though the answer was obvious.

“Got things to do, cars to find,” he replied, tugging on his gloves and smoothing his hair back. “You know how it is.”

She nodded, biting her lip to keep from asking him to stay longer. Joker turned to her with a smirk, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her forehead. “I’ll be back soon, Bunny. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

With that, he made his way to her door, throwing it open like he always did. Y/n watched him as he walked, feeling the familiar pit in her stomach as he disappeared into the night, leaving her alone once again.

It had been three days since Y/n had last seen Joker, and the absence weighed heavily on her. The first day, she had convinced herself he was just busy, caught up in whatever mischief Gotham demanded of him. But by the second day, she started to feel the creeping sadness and unease. By the third, she couldn't shake the emptiness that lingered in the pit of her stomach.

Every knock or creak had her hoping it was him, but no such luck. She spent the days moping in her dorm room, feeling the weight of his absence more with each hour that passed.

By the time evening rolled around, her hunger forced her to make a rare trip down to the dining hall. As she lined up for dinner, grabbing a plate and serving herself some food, she felt strangely disconnected. The clatter of cutlery, the murmur of students talking around her, it all seemed distant, as though she was walking through a fog.

That’s when she heard it.

From the TV mounted in the corner of the dining hall, the news anchor’s voice echoed through the room. “In other breaking news, Gotham has been in fear the past few days as a series of crimes linked to the Joker continue to escalate. Authorities are urging citizens to remain vigilant—"

Y/n’s grip on her plate tightened as she froze mid-motion, her heart skipping a beat. Joker. They were talking about him. She glanced over her shoulder at the TV, feeling her chest tighten as the images of destruction flashed across the screen. As Y/n sat in the dining hall, her focus was still on the TV.

"—Police have been interviewing several local gang members who have turned up beaten and bruised over the past few days. The victims, all of whom belong to various underground organisations, have been questioned about an odd line of inquiry from what appears to be the Joker, or those associated with him. Reports indicate that he’s been asking them about a purple Ford Cortina."

Y/n’s fork paused halfway to her mouth, her stomach flipping as she heard the words. A purple Ford Cortina. Her car. She knew he would search for it, but she didn’t really think about what that would entail.

"Authorities and gang members speculate that the vehicle in question may be linked to illicit activities, possibly connected to the drug trade. Given the Joker's relentless pursuit of this particular car, investigators believe there may be a significant reason behind his interest."

Y/n's breath caught in her throat. So Joker had been trying to track down her car. The realization sent a chill down her spine. He was tearing through Gotham’s underworld, using any means necessary to find it. And if the news was anything to go by, he was leaving a trail of battered bodies in his wake. She could only imagine what Joker might do when he found the guy who actually took it.

Y/n couldn’t help but find it a bit amusing how everyone speculated that Joker’s relentless hunt for the car had to do with drugs, money, or something valuable hidden inside. The authorities and gang members alike were convinced there was a darker motive behind his obsession. But the truth? The Joker was tearing through Gotham's underworld simply because Y/n was upset about losing her car.

All this fear and bloodshed, and it wasn’t over money or a drug deal gone wrong, it was just because Joker wanted to track down the guy who took her car and make him pay.

Y/n was deep in sleep when she felt a shift in the room, a faint sound of the window creaking open, followed by the softest thud against the floor. She stirred, half-aware, when a familiar presence loomed over her bed. Suddenly, she felt fingers gently brushing her cheek, a cold touch that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Bunny," Joker's voice whispered into the darkness.

Her eyes fluttered open, heart racing as she saw his pale face inches from hers, illuminated by the faint light from the street. "J?" she mumbled groggily, rubbing her eyes.

"Wake up, sweetheart. I’m taking you somewhere." His voice was soft, but there was an edge to it, as always. He crouched next to her, his hand now resting on her shoulder.

Groggy and disoriented, Y/n sat up in bed, her eyes barely open as she pouted. “J, it’s too late to go out,” she groaned, her voice heavy with sleep.

Joker, unfazed, strode over to the pile of clothes strewn across the floor. He sifted through them with purposeful movements until he pulled out a pair of pants, which he tossed onto the bed. “Get dressed before I have to do it for you,” he said, his tone commanding.

With a reluctant sigh, Y/n tossed off her covers and struggled out of her pajama shorts, wriggling into the track pants Joker had given her. She shuffled over to him, her movements sluggish. Joker crouched down beside her, helping her into socks and shoes with a quick, messy touch.

“I’m taking you to my hideout,” Joker announced, his voice carrying a note of excitement as he tightened her shoelaces.

Y/n’s eyes flew open in surprise. “Huh?!” she exclaimed, her confusion evident.

Ignoring her reaction, Joker finished with her shoes and guided her toward the window. “Let’s go!” he urged, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“I’m not climbing out of the fucking window!” Y/n protested, her voice loud with alarm.

With a chuckle, Joker removed her large purple coat from the chair and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Trust me, Bunny,” he said softly but firmly, “it’ll be worth it. Now, come on.”

Joker's grin widened as he gently but firmly urged Y/n to climb onto his back. “Come on, Bunny, up up!” he said, settling her comfortably. He held her legs around his waist securely, making sure she was steady.

Y/n, her heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and excitement, wrapped her arms around Joker’s neck and closed her eyes tightly. She tried to ignore the dizzying sensation of the height and the rush of cold air as she felt him step out the window.

Joker's movements were smooth and deliberate as he expertly climbed out of the window, his strong grip keeping them both secure. He maneuvered carefully down the side of the building, his confidence evident in every step. The city below looked distant and blurry to Y/n as she held on, her breaths coming in shallow, controlled gasps.

With each passing moment, the steady rhythm of Joker’s descent, combined with his soothing presence, helped to calm Y/n’s nerves. She felt a strange sense of safety despite the precarious situation.

When they finally reached the ground, Joker gently lowered Y/n to her feet, turning to face her with a triumphant smile. “There we go. Safe and sound,” he said.

Y/n took a deep breath, slowly opening her eyes to the dimly lit streets of Gotham. The adrenaline was still coursing through her veins, but she couldn’t help but smile at the exhilarating escapade.

Joker’s hand found Y/n’s with a firm yet reassuring grip, his gloved fingers wrapping around hers with a sense of purpose. “Come on, Bunny,” he said, leading her through the dimly lit alleyways of Gotham. The city’s nighttime sounds buzzed around them, but Joker's presence made the chaos feel distant and controlled.

They approached a familiar van parked inconspicuously against the shadowy backdrop of Gotham. The van’s dark windows and battered exterior made it blend seamlessly into the night, a stark contrast to the vibrant city lights.

Joker guided Y/n to the sliding door on the side of the van, giving her a gentle nudge to help her step up. “In you go,” he said with a playful wink. Y/n climbed in, her heart still racing from the excitement and the earlier climb.

Inside, the back of the van was surprisingly well-organised. A few cushions and blankets were strewn about, creating a makeshift yet cosy space. Y/n settled onto the soft surface, glancing around with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

“You’ve made it nice in here,” Y/n remarked.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way for my Doll,” Joker replied.

Joker followed her in, sliding the door shut behind him with a quiet click. He turned to face her, his expression a blend of satisfaction and mischief. “Comfortable?” he asked, his tone light and teasing as he took a seat next to her.

Y/n nodded, still processing the unexpected turn of events. “Yeah,” she said, her voice tinged with both awe and amusement.

Joker grinned, leaning back against the wall of the van. “Good.”

“J?” Y/n asked softly.

Joker hummed in response, his gaze fixed on her.

“Why are you taking me to your hideout?” she asked, curiosity laced in her voice.

“Need a little help with some...inquiries,” Joker said vaguely

Y/n sighed, knowing that was all the answer she'd get from him. There was no point in pressing for more. Still, a part of her wasn’t concerned, she trusted him in her own way. She knew Joker would never deliberately put her in danger. At least, not anything she couldn’t handle.

The van ride was shorter than Y/n expected, probably because Joker’s henchman refused to slow the fuck down. The vehicle sped through Gotham's dark streets, swerving around corners with reckless abandon, zooming through redlights. Y/n gripped the seat, her knuckles turning white, while Joker sat unbothered, clearly used to shit driving.

Before she knew it, the van screeched to a halt. The back doors creaked open, and Y/n stepped out, barely keeping balance.

“Why couldn’t Rocco drive instead,” Y/n muttered to herself.

Her eyes tried to adjust to the dimly lit scene. Large shipping containers loomed in front of them, stacked high and scattered across the docks. Joker’s hideout was tucked between them, barely noticeable among the industrial sprawl.

“Home sweet home,” Joker grinned, helping her stand still.

Joker strode confidently ahead of the group, his long coat billowing behind him as he led Y/n through the maze of shipping containers. She trailed behind, her eyes scanning the dimly lit scene, while his henchmen fell into place around her like silent shadows. There was a tension in the air, but none of it was directed at her.

The people inside Joker's hideout were all armed, weapons strapped to their sides or held casually in their hands. Some wore clown masks, others bare, but their attire was surprisingly basic, unlike their leader. Yet, as Y/n passed through the hall, not a single pair of eyes met hers. No one dared to glance her way, as if her presence was something they had been strictly instructed to ignore.

Joker must’ve said something to them beforehand. The thought made her feel both relieved and a little unnerved. Even in his world of anarchy, he had ensured that she was untouchable here. She quickened her pace to catch up to him as they neared a large, rusted metal door.

Joker pushed open the heavy, rusted metal door with a dramatic flourish, stepping inside and gesturing grandly with both arms. "Ta-da!" he announced with an exaggerated smile, his voice echoing off the steel walls.

Y/n stepped in behind him, her eyes widening at the sight before her. The room was dimly lit, the smell of sweat and blood hanging thick in the air. In the center of the room were three men, each strapped to a chair, their faces swollen and bruised beyond recognition. Blood dripped from their mouths, their clothes torn and stained. They looked barely conscious, heads slumped forward, held up only by the restraints binding them.

"Look at ‘em, Bunny! Didn’t they clean up nice?" Joker said with a maniacal grin, walking up to the men and giving one of them a light tap on the cheek, though the man barely reacted. He turned back to Y/n, watching her carefully, as if expecting a reaction, something between shock and awe.

Y/n, though startled, knew this wasn’t out of the ordinary for Joker. She exhaled quietly, her eyes flicking from Joker to the beaten men and back again.

"These guys," Joker continued, pacing in front of them like he was showing off trophies, "have been asking all the wrong questions... But lucky for them, we’ve got the right answers. Ain't that right, fellas?" His laugh echoed in the room, chillingly casual in contrast to the gruesome display in front of them.

Y/n stood frozen at the entrance of the room, her heart pounding in her chest as she took in the scene before her. Her hands trembled uncontrollably, fingers digging into the fabric of Joker’s coat as her eyes darted between the bloodied men. Her knees felt weak, and a wave of fear and nausea surged through her. She had never been this close to Joker's brutality before, seeing it from afar was one thing, but being here, in the midst of it, was another entirely.

She felt herself shaking, her breath catching in her throat as her mind raced. What was she supposed to do?

Joker, noticing her reaction, moved over to her, his sharp grin softening into something more comforting. He placed a hand on her shoulder, fingers curling gently as he pulled her closer.

“Hey, hey... it’s alright, Bunny,” he murmured, his voice unexpectedly soothing despite the horror around them. He tilted her chin up, making her look at him rather than the beaten men. “You’re safe. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

Y/n swallowed hard, trying to calm the tremors in her body, but her fear was overwhelming. She couldn’t stop shaking. Joker’s grip tightened, firm but not harsh. His eyes, though gleaming with mischief, held a strange sort of reassurance. He wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her. Not while he was there.

“You recognize any of ‘em?” Joker asked, his voice smooth, but laced with a hint of danger. He gestured lazily to the men in the chairs. “One of these guys…is the prick who took your car, Doll. Which one? Huh? Take your time.”

Y/n’s eyes flicked nervously toward the men, her pulse quickening as she tried to focus, to remember the face of the man who had shoved a gun into her back. Her stomach churned as she scanned each bloodied face, her fear growing by the second. She clenched her hands into fists, trying to still the shaking.

"I-I’m not sure," she whispered, her voice barely audible, but Joker’s fingers on her chin turned her face to meet his gaze again.

"You’ll figure it out, Bunny," Joker said, his grin widening as he stepped back. "I believe in you."

Y/n felt her heart racing as she desperately tried to recall the face of the man who had stolen her car. She scanned the bloodied faces of the three men strapped to the chairs, her mind racing yet blank. The fear gripped her, tightening around her chest like a vice. She hadn’t turned to face her attacker that day, all she had was a fleeting impression. Now, the bruises and welts made it impossible to recognize anyone.

Biting her lip, she fidgeted with her nails, a nervous habit that had developed over the years. Each of her movements was a mixture of anxiety and frustration. She glanced back at Joker, who was now leaning against the wall with an expectant look. Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion as she shook her head, silently pleading for an escape.

“You don’t know, Bunny?” he asked, his voice teasing yet tinged with a hint of disappointment. She nodded again, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach.

Joker straightened up. He turned back to the men, clapping his gloved hands together. The sound echoed through the dimly lit room, causing Y/n to jump, startled by the sudden noise.

“Looks like you’re all gonna face the punishment!” he declared, his tone gleefully ominous.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as she watched him approach the trembling figures. Her heart thudded louder in her ears, each beat amplifying the rising tension. “Might wanna turn around, Bunny…” he advised in a low, gravelly voice that sent shivers down her spine.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Y/n spun on her heels, not wanting to witness whatever Joker had planned. But the chilling sounds that erupted behind her were unmistakable. The first scream pierced through the air, raw and filled with terror, and she instinctively shoved her fingers into her ears, desperate to block out the horror unfolding just a few feet away.

The echos of pain reverberated through her body, and she fought against the rising panic within her. Each scream seemed to etch itself into her mind, a haunting reminder of the world Joker inhabited, a world she was still trying to comprehend.

Y/n stood frozen in place, her body trembling uncontrollably as the terrifying screams filled the air. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, blurring her vision and stinging her cheeks. The sounds behind her were a cruel reminder of the darkness that lurked in Joker’s world, a reality she had only glimpsed at before now.

She bit her lip, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape. The warmth of fear flooded through her, wrapping around her like a suffocating blanket. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to disappear from the situation, to escape the horrifying reality unfolding behind her.

“J…please,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound. But the words felt hollo she knew he was lost in his own excitement, reveling in the chaos that he thrived on.

Y/n’s heart raced, each beat echoing the dread that filled her. She wanted to turn around, to stop him, but she felt paralyzed by fear. The tears began to fall, trailing down her cheeks as she desperately tried to quell the rising tide of panic.

“Please, just stop,” she murmured to herself, hoping that the power of her words would somehow reach Joker, that he would sense her distress and reconsider. But deep down, she feared that he was too far gone, too enveloped in his sadistic joy to listen to her cries for mercy.

The room seemed to close in on her, the weight of the situation pressing down harder with every agonizing second. She felt so small, so helpless, trapped in a world she didn’t belong to, as tears continued to fall.

As the unsettling sounds of distress echoed through the room, the heavy metal door creaked open, interrupting the violent scene. A figure stepped inside, a tall, muscular man dressed in a dark jacket and jeans, his face marked with the grime of the streets. He hesitated for a moment, eyes darting to the trembling form of Y/n before focusing on Joker, who was still reveling in the fear he had instigated.

“Boss!” the man called out, his voice cutting through the noise. “We got a hit on the car!”

Joker paused mid-motion, turning his head slightly, though the glint in his eyes hadn’t faded. The man who had entered looked nervously at Y/n, noting her shaking form before turning back to Joker, eyes darting between the gruesome scene and his unsettling leader.

Joker’s grip on the nearest man loosened, and he slowly straightened up, a wicked grin spreading across his painted face. He wiped the blood from his gloves, flicking it off to the side as if it was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

“Well, well, Bunny,” Joker drawled, turning his attention away from the bloodied men and back to Y/n, who was still shaking, her eyes filled with tears. He strode over to her, ignoring the mess he’d left behind. “Looks like we found your ride.”

Y/n’s breath hitched as he gently cupped her chin, lifting her tear-streaked face to meet his. “No more tears now, hmm? You’ll get what’s yours.” He brushed his thumb over her cheek before glancing at the man who had brought the news. “Show me.”

Joker reached for her side and gently placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward the exit. Y/n's legs felt shaky beneath her, still trembling from the horrors she'd just witnessed, but she followed his lead, her mind clouded with fear and confusion.

"Come on, Bunny. We’re done here," he said softly, though his tone carried an edge that left no room for hesitation.

Y/n felt his hand tighten slightly as they approached the door, his presence offering a strange sense of security in the midst of her unease. The henchmen in the room stepped aside without a word, avoiding eye contact as they always did, heads bowed in silent deference.

As they walked out, Joker kept his arm steady around her, pulling her closer as they passed through the rusted doors and into the dimly lit hallway. Y/n’s breath felt heavy in her chest, but with Joker leading her, she didn’t dare look back at the screams and chaos they left behind.

Once outside the room, the night air hit her face like a cold slap, grounding her slightly as the noise from the other side of the door faded away. Joker leaned down, whispering into her ear with a teasing smirk, "Told you I’d take care of it, Bunny."

Y/n nodded, still too shaken to speak. Joker helped Y/n into the back of the van with a firm but reassuring grip, and then climbed in after her. Rocco was already behind the wheel, adjusting his mirrors and starting the engine with a smooth, deliberate motion. Y/n could already tell that this ride would be different from the wild, reckless journey that brought them to the docks. Rocco wasn’t the crazy, pedal-to-the-floor type, and the knowledge that he’d drive with some level of sanity brought Y/n an odd sense of comfort after the mess she’d just been through.

Joker settled beside her, stretching out casually like they were heading to a late-night diner rather than retrieving a stolen car. His calmness, while unsettling, made her feel a little more anchored in the moment. The van pulled away from the warehouse slowly, the rhythmic hum of the engine cutting through the tension that lingered in the air.

Y/n glanced over at Joker, who was staring out the window with a gleam of anticipation in his eyes. As they wound through the quiet streets of Gotham, her nerves gradually settled, though a sense of dread still lurked beneath the surface. She knew they were heading toward the location of her stolen car, but what would happen when they got there? She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to find out.

Y/n leaned back against her seat, trying to shake the images of the beaten men from her mind. Joker, however, looked relaxed, his hands drumming lightly against his knee, as if this was just another night for him.

Rocco pulled the van into a slow crawl as they approached the location. Y/n's eyes darted out the window, scanning the area nervously. It was an abandoned lot, scattered with debris and lined with broken streetlights that flickered weakly in the darkness. In the middle of the lot sat her car, the familiar purple Ford Cortina gleaming under a dim light. Too pristine, too untouched, too perfect.

The van came to a gentle stop, and Rocco shifted into park. Y/n’s heart raced. Something wasn’t right. Everything about the scene felt too neat. The car was just sitting there, almost like it had been gift-wrapped and left for them.

Joker sat up, his usual smirk fading as he surveyed the area, eyes narrowing. Y/n swallowed hard. Even she could feel it. It was a setup. A trap, perhaps. The whole thing felt staged, like someone was waiting for them to make the first move. The silence around them was heavy, too heavy for Gotham's rough streets.

Joker’s fingers drummed against the side of his leg, faster this time, his mind clearly working through possibilities. Without turning his head, he spoke, his voice low.

“Stay here, Bunny.”

Y/n’s gut twisted as she glanced nervously at him, unsure of what would happen next. Something in her told her this wasn’t just about retrieving a stolen car anymore.

Joker slipped out of the van with a calmness that contradicted the tension crackling in the air. Rocco stayed in the driver's seat, his eyes shifting to the rearview mirror, making sure Y/n was still there. She felt a strange sense of comfort in his presence.

From her spot in the van, Y/n could see Joker approach the car with slow, deliberate steps. His silhouette was sharp against the dim light that cast long shadows over the lot. He circled the Cortina, eyes scanning every inch of it like he was expecting something to jump out at him. His movements were careful, precise, like he was reading the scene for any sign of a trap.

Y/n held her breath, her fingers gripping the edge of the seat tightly. She had a bad feeling about this, everything was too still. Her heart pounded in her chest as Joker stopped in front of the car. He turned his head slightly, just enough to catch Rocco’s eye, a silent signal passing between them.

Rocco tensed, gripping the steering wheel. Y/n could feel the shift in the air, the anticipation building as if the whole scene was waiting for someone to spring the trap.

Suddenly, Joker’s hand shot out to open the door of the Cortina, and as if on cue, the sound of tires screeching against asphalt filled the night air. Several black cars surged into the lot from all sides, headlights blinding as they formed a rough circle around the Cortina, and Joker.

Y/n gasped, her fear confirmed. It was a trap.

“Boss!” Rocco yelled, his hand already reaching for a gun stashed under the dashboard. Joker didn’t flinch. Instead, he straightened up, his head tilting with that familiar, unsettling smile curling his lips. The chaos was brewing, but Joker looked like he was about to enjoy the show.

The screeching tires belonged not to gang members or rival thugs, but to police cars. Dozens of them, their lights flashing violently against the dark backdrop. Y/n's breath hitched in her throat as she recognized the unmistakable sirens piercing the tense silence. These weren’t just any vehicles. It was Gotham's Police Force, and they had Joker surrounded.

Joker’s eyes gleamed with twisted delight as the police vehicles formed a barricade around him. He didn’t flinch, didn’t retreat. Instead, he straightened up and flicked a glance toward the flashing lights, his smile widening like this was all part of the plan.

Rocco cursed under his breath, his hands gripping the wheel tighter. "Boss, it's the Gotham MCU," he growled, already reaching for the gun stashed under his seat.

Y/n’s heart was pounding so loudly she thought it might burst out of her chest. She stared at the police cars, her hands trembling as fear overtook her. This was bad, really bad.

From the distance, officers began spilling out of the vehicles, guns drawn and aimed directly at Joker. They moved like a well-oiled machine, creating a blockade that left no gaps. The realization hit Y/n hard. They had set up a trap, and Joker had walked right into it.

"Step away from the vehicle with your hands up!" one officer shouted through a megaphone, his voice distorted but authoritative.

But Joker? He only laughed. That spine-chilling laugh echoed through the lot, a sound so unsettling that even some of the cops shifted uneasily. Joker turned his head slightly, as if to make sure Y/n was still watching. Then, without a hint of fear, he raised his arms slowly in the air, playing along.

Rocco looked back at Y/n, his face a mixture of worry and anticipation. "Stay low, and don’t move. Got it?" he barked, his voice low and urgent.

Y/n nodded, but inside she was spiraling. Her stomach churned, her pulse raced. How were they going to get out of this?

Joker must have made a subtle hand gesture, quick, nearly imperceptible. But Rocco saw it. He cursed under his breath and reluctantly tucked his gun back under the seat. Y/n glanced between them, confusion swirling in her chest.

“What…what’s going on?” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rocco’s jaw clenched as he turned the key in the ignition. Without another word, the van roared to life. Y/n's confusion deepened, but before she could even process it, Rocco slammed his foot on the gas, and the van jerked forward.

“Wait!” Y/n gasped, her hands bracing against the seat as the van sped away from the scene.

Her head whipped back, heart hammering in her chest as the distance between them and Joker grew. She could see the police closing in on him, all their focus trained on capturing Gotham’s most notorious criminal. None of them even glanced at the van speeding away.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, eyes widening as she watched Joker stand there, calm and collected. The flashing lights, the shouting officers, none of it seemed to faze him. In fact, he was smiling.

Through the haze of panic, Y/n’s vision locked on him as the police neared. And there he was, standing completely still, his gaze never leaving hers. That familiar, wicked grin spread across his face as if he’d orchestrated the whole thing. Like this was just another one of his games.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as the reality of the moment crashed over her. He was letting her go. Letting her escape. But at what cost?

Her fingers gripped the seat, knuckles turning white as they sped away, the van tearing through the streets of Gotham, leaving Joker to the police.

A/N: OoOoOoOooo, J's been caught~ and poor Y/n still don't got her car back :C Thank you for reading this part, and thank you for being patient, I really appreciate everyone 💚 Not too sure when I'll have time to write the next chapter, but we'll see thank you again 🫶

#fanfic #joker fanfiction #heath joker #joker #dc joker #the joker #health ledger joker x reader #ledger joker x reader #joker fanfic #joker x reader #heath ledger #heath ledger joker #the dark knight trilogy #the dark knight #x reader #reader insert #reader with anxiety

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hawkinsschoolcounselor · 8 months ago

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Mike declaring his "love" for El is what Henry has been waiting for.

Will, the well-intentioned selfless idiot that he is, has accidentally set in motion Henry's best chance to finally achieve his goals of...world domination? What exactly is he after, anyway?

El was on her way to becoming a stronger person. She faced her demons. She accepted her past mistakes that led to Henry's massacre, confronted Dr. Brenner and rejected his manipulations once and for all, and stopped seeing herself as Mike's idealized superhero girlfriend. It seemed that she was set to move past all of her biggest insecurities, which would allow her to face Henry without any mental weaknesses for him to exploit.

Then Will saw Mike moping about El. He couldn't handle Mike talking badly about himself. He wanted to let Mike know how he sees him, but, of course, he felt it wouldn't mean anything coming from him. So, he put El's name on everything, not even noticing how Mike's initial excited reaction at seeing the painting was dulled at Will crediting El with it. Nevertheless, Mike was overcome with emotion at someone seeing him exactly the way he always wished he would be seen. And, because of Will, he thinks it's how El sees him.

It remains curious that Mike and El never had an emotional conversation after they reunited. Yes, there was initially no time for that since they had to get back on the road to escape Sullivan. However, even with their need to plan what they needed to do to save Max, they could have talked. They were in that van fairly long considering it was daytime when El was rescued and night when they reached Surfer Boy Pizza. Perhaps they didn't want to talk in front of everyone else, though that didn't stop Will. They didn't really get a chance at that until everyone else was preparing for El's saltwater bath.

What may well have been a gentle breakup or, at the very least, an honest conversation about their relationship issues, instead was interrupted by Argyle. Indeed, Mike seemed eager to goof off with his blackout glasses and then seemed nervous when El took his hands with that "we need to talk" look. That conversation was their only chance to have a real talk, but they had no chance, and El was soon in the pizza freezer trying to save Max.

This brings us to the second part of Will's well-intentioned mistake. El is in danger. Henry managed to get the upper hand. El appeared to be dying. In an effort to give her strength, Will prompts Mike to talk to her. He's the heart. Mike had been hesitating, but he tells her he loves her. It's a bit unclear just what sort of effect this had on El, whether it helped or distracted her. However, she does eventually steel herself and, seeing that Max was about to be killed, summons the strength to fight back. Max is partially saved, but we never see Mike and El talk afterwards.

El is naturally rattled by Max's fate. She lost, and Max suffered for it. However, she makes no apparent attempts to find comfort or reassurance in Mike. Aside from the hospital room, she was quiet, going off on her own. The strong, determined, self-assured young woman she was growing into has fallen back into insecurity.

Meanwhile, Will has sacrificed his greatest desire for what he thinks will give Mike and El happiness. That will be Henry's opportunity.

Make no mistake: Henry knows that Will loves Mike. He had Will integrated into the hive mind. Brain scans showed that Will's mind was almost entirely taken over. He knows Will's every secret, and he also knows that Mike was the one who finally broke through to him in the shed. Mike trusts Will completely, and Will is able to sense Henry's presence.

Mike is the fly in the ointment, the spanner in the works. He's been far more of a problem for Henry than he even realizes. Mike is a problem for him. Will is a problem for him. Mike and Will together would be an even bigger problem.

In order to win, Henry needs three things to happen. First, isolate El. She is the only one who is capable of facing him one-on-one. She is stronger when she has something to fight for, something driving her to overcome the odds. If she doubts herself, he has a chance. He needs to take away her support system by either killing them or separating her from them.

Second, Mike needs to be taken out of the picture. Will was right. Mike is the leader, the heart. He knows how to rally an group of ordinary kids, now teens, to do things that should be well out of their abilities. Mike is caring, brave, and intelligent, but also very insecure. If he can get Mike doubting himself, then he won't be able to support El, Will, or anyone else.

Finally, Will has always been special to Henry. We don't yet know why, exactly, but Henry targeted Will from the start. Even after Will was rescued, Henry tried again a year later to bring Will into his control. It could be that he hates losing that much, or it could be that Will has some yet to be revealed asset that Henry needs. Their mental connection, at the very least, is a huge liability for Henry, but it has also been an asset for him in the past.

It seems to reason that any plan of Henry's needs to address these three, and I think it fits with what we know so far.

El seems to largely be isolated. She's apparently in hiding, which is likely since she's essentially a fugitive from the government. This would eventually take its toll on anyone, but El is also a teenager with a lifetime of trauma. She saw her best friend die. She has to hide from hostile forces while trying to protect the world from literal monsters. Over time, the stress could make her snap. Henry just has to keep her busy and away from the others.

We know that Holly is targeted by Henry, and Karen may end up in the hospital with severe injuries. This could very well be a calculated plan by Henry to get Mike out of the way. Killing Mike would probably enrage El to the point of her becoming too big of a threat, and it would also make it difficult to bring Will back under his control. Instead, he can target Mike's family to sow enough doubt in him to force him out of the picture. At the very least, he can distract Mike from being able to support the others if he's worried about his family, instead.

This would leave Will vulnerable, as well. We have reason to believe that Will has flashbacks/visions, possibly right away in episode 1. It's reasonable to think that the others could worry about Will being a spy for Henry again. Mike would trust him, but the others might think it'd be safer for Will to be away from the action, so Henry would be unable to use him. Rejection is a fear of Will's, not only from Mike, but in general. He wouldn't take it well if his friends saw him as a tool of the enemy. If Mike were to be too caught up in his own head to reassure Will, or, worse, start to see reason to doubt Will, himself, then Will could fall into a downward spiral. Will loves Mike. Needs him. Any rejection from Mike is painful to him. He may try to pretend that he's moved on, but feelings like those don't just go away. This would give Henry an opportunity to tempt him or outright possess him again.

Of course, we know that Henry will ultimately lose. This is all just how I feel he will try to attack what I see as his biggest obstacles to victory. Any thoughts?

#byler #stranger things 5 #will byers #mike wheeler #jane hopper #eleven

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ice-man-goes-bwoah · 2 months ago

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Leaving it all behind||Mafia!Max verstappen x fem!reader part two

Summary —after saving y/n’s life max seeks out her friendship only to realize that he wants more in life then what his father wants for him.

Word count—1417

Tag list open

Max’s life had always been carefully compartmentalized—business was business, and the rare moments of personal life he allowed himself were kept far from the eyes of his family. But over time, his “disappearances” to see Y/N hadn’t gone unnoticed.

One afternoon, Jos sat in his leather chair at the head of their estate’s grand dining room. Marco stood nearby, observing him closely. He was loyal to Jos, fiercely so, and he’d known Max since he was a boy. But loyalty to the family meant loyalty to its survival—and Max was threatening that with his wandering.

Marco cleared his throat, his voice steady. “I’m starting to think Max’s time away isn’t just business, Jos. He’s… distracted.”

Jos looked up slowly, his gaze piercing, as if calculating what Marco wasn’t saying. “Explain.”

Marco shifted, choosing his words carefully. “It’s a girl. A nobody who works in some bookstore downtown. He’s spending time with her. A lot of time.”

A silence fell over the room as Jos leaned back, fingers steepled. A faint smirk crossed his face, though his eyes remained cold. “A girl, you say?” He sounded almost amused, but there was a dangerous undercurrent in his tone. “Max has always been soft-hearted. I warned him about that. But this… attachment could be problematic.”

Marco nodded, his voice darkening. “He’s slipping, Jos. Losing focus. And if he thinks he can just walk away from her…” He didn’t finish the thought, but they both knew what happened to those who tried to leave.

Jos’ gaze darkened, his fingers tapping against the armrest as he considered the implications. He’d built his empire on ruthless loyalty, on men who would die for the family without question. But his son was becoming a liability—a weakness that could be exploited by their enemies.

“We need to remind Max of his responsibilities,” Jos said quietly, his voice laced with cold authority. “This… bookstore girl has become a distraction. Make sure he understands that she could be more than just a distraction—she’s a threat to him.”

Marco inclined his head, understanding the unspoken command. They couldn’t afford loose ends. If Max couldn’t be swayed, the girl would have to go. Marco left the room, a faint grimace on his face. He’d always respected Max, but he’d be damned if he let anyone ruin everything they’d built.

It started with a quiet warning. One night, as he slipped into the back office of his family’s club, one of his father’s oldest lieutenants, Marco, was waiting for him. Marco was a man with eyes as cold as winter and a voice like gravel. He eyed Max for a long moment, his face unreadable.

“Word around is you’ve been spending a lot of time away,” Marco said, his tone almost casual, though there was a hard edge beneath it.

Max didn’t flinch, keeping his expression carefully blank. “And?”

“And,” Marco continued, stepping closer, “you’ve got responsibilities, Max. The family isn’t just a part-time job. Your father knew that. I hope you haven’t forgotten.”

Max clenched his jaw, but he forced himself to stay calm. “I haven’t forgotten. I just… I’m handling things in my way.”

Marco’s gaze was heavy. “Your way better be the right way. People are noticing. They’re questioning your loyalty.”

Max stifled a growl, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. Of course, people were noticing. Word got around fast in the family, and Max knew better than anyone that loyalty was their currency. He was walking a fine line, trying to juggle two worlds that didn’t seem to mix.

“My loyalty isn’t in question,” he ground out, holding Marco’s gaze. “I know where my responsibilities lie.”

Marco looked unconvinced, but he didn’t press any further. He simply nodded an ominous gesture that echoed through the office. As the door closed behind Marco, leaving Max alone, he let out a weary sigh. He was tired of the constant tests, the suspicion, the threats. It was never-ending, a constant game of proving himself worthy. His entire life had been shaped by this role, groomed and molded to be the perfect successor.

But now…now he was questioning it all. For the first time, he was considering walking away from everything, from the life that his father had set out for him. All because of her.

Max slumped into the chair behind the desk, rubbing a hand over his face. He knew he was playing a dangerous game. His father had never tolerated disobedience, especially from him. He'd always expected obedience above all else, and Max's deviation from that path would not be lightly tolerated.

Max’s thoughts drifted to her. He'd spent every waking moment with her, drowning in the bliss of her company. But each moment had only heightened his desire for something more than what he already had. Something real. Authentic.

He leaned back, closing his eyes. He could hear her voice, her laugh, her soft sighs. He could almost feel her skin under his fingers, the way she fit so perfectly against him. But he couldn’t have her, not in the way he truly wanted. Not unless he was willing to give everything else up.

The thought sent a pang of regret through him. His family, his legacy, his entire life — it was all built on bloodshed and secrets. Was he ready to turn his back on it all?

He opened his eyes, looking at the room around him. The room his father had spent countless hours in, strategizing, planning, and ruling an empire built on violence and fear. Was this the life he wanted to live? Was this the life he wanted her to be a part of?

He knew the answer. The knowledge sat heavily in his chest, squeezing the air from his lungs. He was teetering on the edge of a decision that would change everything, a decision that would mean leaving one life behind for another.

He thought back to their time together, the stolen moments in the bookstore, the whispered secrets in shadowed corners. Every moment had deepened his feelings for her. He’d been trying to fight them, to ignore them, but it was a useless battle.

He was in love with her. Deeply, completely, irrevocably in love. The realization made him sit upright in the chair, his heart pounding in his chest. He’d been denying it, fighting it, but the truth was there. He loved her. He wanted a life with her. A real life. A life without secrets, without violence.

He knew it was a pipe dream, a foolish, impossible dream. But he found himself grasping for it anyway, holding onto the idea like a drowning man grasping for a lifeline.

“This is crazy,” he murmured to himself, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “This is insane.”

He stood up, pacing the room in an attempt to clear his head. But his mind was a storm, thoughts churning together in a confusing mess.

There was no future for them. No world where his family, and his role in the organization, would allow him to be with her. And yet, he couldn’t let her go, couldn’t turn his feelings off like a switch. He could almost hear his father's voice in his mind, a harsh whisper in the back of his head.

You belong to this family. You're not here to make your own choices, Max.

He closed his eyes again, trying to drown out the voice. But the words only echoed louder in his mind, a constant reminder of the life he was supposed to lead, the life he'd been groomed for.

And yet, amidst the chaos, one thought rang louder than the rest — a thought that both filled him with hope and made him feel like a traitor to everything he knew:

She’s more important.

Max leaned on the desk, taking deep breaths, trying to calm the maelstrom of emotions. It was a foolish thought, a dangerous thought. And yet, it was a thought that he couldn’t shake off, a thought that had taken root in his heart and refused to let go. He couldn't have both worlds. That much was clear. He couldn't be a part of the family and be free to be with her. He couldn't be the man his father wanted and the man she needed. He had to make a choice.

And the choice, no matter how foolish, was already made. For her, he would be willing to give up everything. For her, he was willing to risk it all.

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theemporium · 2 years ago

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It was an unwritten rule for vampires to not get attached to humans.

There was the logical side of it: the vampire would outlive the human, so there was no point of getting attached. There was the moral side: if there was no intention to turn the human (which albeit, many vampires looked down upon), then it was an unnecessary bond to form. There was the superiority side of it: why would a vampire spend time with a lesser creature?

And above all, there was the weakness side to it: if you get attached to a human, you are giving yourself a weakness for enemies to exploit.

But you were far too irresistible for Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen to avoid.

For hundreds and hundreds of years, they always had each other and that was more than enough. Through different decades and centuries, they were each other’s person. They turned together. They fought together. They lived and loved and experienced the world together. There was never a need for anyone else when it was each other.

And the night they met you, it should have played out the way the rest of them had. The hour was late, the sky was dark and the slight chill in the air added to the thrill of the hunt. It had been weeks since they last fed straight from the vein, and both of them were starting to get angsty. They wanted some fun. They wanted some entertainment.

And then you entered their lives and completely threw them off their axis.

You were a human. You were lesser than them. You were weak and fragile and in a few decades time, you’d be a blip in their memories and lives. They shouldn’t care about you. They shouldn’t have even cared about you when they first saw you. You should have been another victim on their list, and that was all.

But you weren’t.

You were their human, their pet, their far too trusting toy that they could corrupt and mould and manipulate into everything they wanted.

You were theirs.

“Fuck,” Charles let out a low groan as he lifted his head from your neck, blood messily dripping down his chin. “That’s it, pet. Fucking hell.”

Your head lolled back onto his shoulder, a little bleary as the rush of the feed washed through your body. But it was short-lived when you felt a hand squeezing your face, lifting your head up as you tried to work through all the overwhelming feelings inside you.

“Such a stupid, little thing,” Max hummed, one hand holding your face in place whilst the other one stroked his cock as he stood in front of you and Charles. “You are too soft on her.”

“She’s a weak creature, cherie,” Charles retorted, his hands gliding up and down your torso as you shivered beneath his touch. “Don’t wanna break her.”

“Maybe that’s exactly what we need to do,” Max stated, his voice a little strained and breathless as he watched your hooded eyes lock on his dick, a stare of longing and neediness in your eyes that made him smirk a little. “Isn’t that what you want, pet? You wanna be good for us?”

You nodded dumbly.

“She’s perfect the way she is,” Charles muttered, his large hands feeling ice cold against your tits as he squeezed and groped them, letting out a soft string of curses when he felt you clenching around his cock. “Our perfect whore.”

“So fucked out she doesn’t even know what’s happening,” Max continued, letting out a groan as he felt himself tipping close to the edge, seconds away from coming when you stuck your tongue out obediently for him. “Fuck, look at her.”

“Atta girl,” Charles grumbled in your ear. “A perfect slut, squeezing around my cock and desperate for him, aren’t you?”

“Please,” you choked out, a fuzziness in your head that never really disappeared since you had met the boys.

“Blood whore,” he remarked with a sinister grin before his head dipped back down, fangs pricking your skin before they sunk in.

You let out a choked gasp, a wave of pain and ecstasy washing through your body as you felt him drink from you. But that’s exactly what you were for them. Their little human to do with as they please. To sit on their cock and kneel before them when they come. To offer a vein and fresh supply when they felt even a smidge of hunger. To obey and follow their every little demand because at the end of the day, they were them and you were just human.

“Our pretty pet,” Max groaned out as he finally reached his edge, tipping over as he came all over your face and tits. And just when he thought you weren’t perfect already, fucked out and on a blood high, you gave him a sleepy grin and offered your wrist as Charles continued to slurp from your neck.

“Please,” you pleaded, your tongue darting out to lick a bit of his release from your chin.

And who were they to deny their little human what you craved most when you had been an obedient thing, just absolutely perfect for them.

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ferrstappen · 2 years ago

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max the extra wag l Max Verstappen

a/n: this is so bad im sorry but it just came to my mind! I hope to post the second part of the Lando break up series tomorrow, hopefully after he gets on the podium!!!!

pairing: Max Verstappen x female reader

genre: fluff

FIND THE REST OF MAX THE WAG SERIES HERE

summary: you can't keep up with all the drama outside the track, but your boyfriend keeps you updated.

It's not like you didn't check social media or that your algorithm didn't show you edits of your boyfriend driving, trauma dumping, looking cute and hot as always, but after a couple of weeks being exploited as an intern, you didn't really have the time to keep up with the usual gossip from Max's work.

Monaco GP, 2023

It was great to be home. The best of the Monaco Grand Prix was that you could sleep on your own bed, you and Max could walk back home hand in hand, stopping to buy things you may need: sweets to fill your purse to binge while sitting on the garage, the special herbal blend Max liked to have before going to bed, condoms because the last box was almost empty.

Adored and precious routine. almost.

You had to admit Monaco made you a little more nervous, not only because of the narrow streets, but a lot of important, well-known people were all over the place, and Max was the center of it all. Even after years of relationship, you still felt nervous when he looked at your with glowing eyes.

This is my girlfriend, (y/n). She has this great internship because she's the best of her class. I'm sure you've met before.

When all that was over, you chatted a bit with known photographers from the paddock, and right when you were speaking to one of them, you noticed the special white and red look of Charles Leclerc, walking hand in hand with a girl.

It didn't catch your attention immediately, but when you were back home, comfortably sitting on your bed reading an article for work while Max viewed the photographs of the day, the image sneaked in your thoughts.

"You didn't tell me about Charles and Charlotte!" you released the statement a bit harsher than expected, Max's eyebrows furrowing.

"Tell you what?" Max was confused and his face showed it, it was funny.

"Charles Leclerc? Charlotte Siné? Sounds familiar?" you said playfully rolling your eyes.

"I know who they are, schat, but I don't know the thing I was supposed to tell you about? They broke up months ago, they even announced it on instagram, although it was completely unnecessary if you ask me," The last sentence painted a smile on your face, recognizing the change of the tone of his voice, posture and facial expressions, he was ready to gossip.

"But I saw them walking together today! They were walking towards the Ferrari garage, they were holding hands and everything!"

Right in that moment, you observed how his expression changed before realizing a chuckle, his loud and gorgeous laugh that instantly made your insides flutter because it came from his stomach, his lungs; the purest laugh, your favorite.

"She is his new girlfriend, babe," Max told you and your jaw dropped. "Checo said the same thing to me and Daniel when they walked in together for the first time, Checo was sure it was Charlotte until Charles introduced us before the press conference," Now he was in full gossip mode: sitting straighter, phone left behind, blue eyes open wide.

"I'm speechless," you told him, repeating what you saw in the morning over and over again, but your feelings suddenly deviated from surprise to betrayal, playfully hitting Max's thigh. "Honey, why didn't you tell me that sooner?!"

Barcelona GP, 2023

Today you entered the paddock alone, coming straight from the hotel room after landing just an hour ago. You were sad to miss Friday, but your boss said it was vital for you to be in the office on Friday, insisting the meetings couldn't be held on Zoom.

You knew it was because he's a Mercedes fan and hoped Max would be distracted without having you there.

As if. your presence wasn't very vital during the weekend and you were well aware of it.

Admiring the amount of fans cheering for their favorite drivers, a sea of red Ferrari merchandising and flags, you walked by the Ferrari garage to greet Carlos, letting him know you (and Max) were cheering for him to get P2.

P1 belonged to your boyfriend, always.

Quickly scanning the drivers lounge you noticed the Sainz family, very close to each other, Carlos Sainz Sr. listening to everything the engineers were saying about his son's strategy and car.

But something was missing, and it was easy to notice because every friend and family of Carlos was there.

With that idea roaming, you reached your destination, grabbing a sugar free Red Bull before finding your boyfriend with his suit hanging from his hips, tightly hugging him from his waist while carefully extending your neck to meet his lips.

Max was required to stay longer on the track, Christian letting him know they added a meeting to discuss strategy because of the changing wether.

This left you with almost an hour to kill; your head resting on his thighs as he carefully juggling.

"Max, have you heard anything from the party last week? after the gp?" this got Max's attention, already knowing you had a piece of information.

"I know Lando almost hooked up with a girl from Latin America, from Chile I think? but nothing happened because his brother was staying on his flat. Charles and... ex girlfriend 2.0? made it official. Checo didn't go anywhere because last year still haunts him..." Max was mentally remembering every piece of information he'd heard during the week. "Oh, and I think Carlos was with a girl that wasn't his girlfriend? Christian said they didn't do anything, but Max Fewtrell said they left together,"

"Interesting because you know who's not in the Ferrari garage? at his home race? Isa," You told Max, which caused him to drop the colorful balls he was juggling.

"No! So it's true? he cheated?" He whisper shouted.

"Maybe they've been broken up for some time, now that I think about it I haven't seen her since testing?"

Neither Max nor you heard when someone walked in, calling for Max. Because now Max's head was resting on your legs as your fingers caressed his hair, his hands moving around as he came up with a possible theory, tying loose ends and trying to remember anything he'd heard.

The subject was forgotten once you arrived to the hotel room; lights off, eyes almost closing, but Max gasped when he remembered something Alonso mentioned during a press conference, apparently after hearing Lance talking with Esteban.

"Lance said Esteban and his girlfriend are over, do you think it's true?" Max asked you, and this brought up another thing.

"Did you hear anything about Lance cheating or whatever at his sister's wedding?" now you asked him, bodies coming closer to each other.

Now sleep was long forgotten and the only important thing was the gossipy whispers, the loud giggle leaving Max's lips when something sounded too ridiculous, and the security of knowing you'd never be the subject of those rumors.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen au #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 x reader #max verstappen fic #max the wag

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old-fandom · 4 months ago

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HELLO! I HAVE AN ESTABLISHED TEEN STANCEST IDEA!

Idk what I would call this but basically, it's "Ford is part of a DD&MD group with a bunch of other asshole losers who basically use Ford for his basement and Stan is the stupid but hot twin brother that the guys all talk made shit about both sexually and bullying wise. Ford is pissed about it."

Basically, Ford is invited into a group at high school with a bunch of other outcast losers who decide to let Ford join because he has a basement they can use to play. They used the play at another guys house but their mom kicked them out after they broke one of her coffee tables wrestling over a dice roll. Ford, for the first time, finally has a group of guys that he could call his friends. These "friends" are assholes. They're comic book snobs and misogynistic white knights and anti-deodorant wearing teenager boys. Think incel but less "I want to kill women" and more "I am smarter than everyone here due to my impressive and ultra rare card binder and everyone else is a poser if you don't know this trivia fact!" But none the less, Ford is accepted into the fold. He's able to actually play the game, or at least, be DM, which he doesn't mind! In fact, he likes being in charge. He's still a little shy but he's slowly cracking out of his shell, being less cagey and more open with jabbing back at the others taunts and even being able to continue the flow of conversation effortlessly. He's able to be nerdly aggressive where his threats, his taunts, his nerdy accomplishments that aren't academic are recognized and envied over. It kind of works for the group and Ford is happy.

Except for one thing.

They all have a thing for Stanley.

And Ford hates that they have a thing for Stanley.

Stanley is perfectly happy with Ford having a friend group, especially one that lets him nerd out to the max. He usually doesn't bother them when they're over, either because he doesn't want to be around that much nerdiness or because the smell shuns him away. But this doesn't mean he hasn't gone down there before.

The first time he went down there, it was to tell Ford that Ma wanted him to take a look at the telephone before he went to bed. She thinks one of the wires is loose again and he might need to fix it. Ford says he will and Stan leaves. That's when the comments start up.

They start jaunting about his wit, asking Ford what it's like to have a dumb jock for a brother. Ford defends Stan, saying he's more than just a dumb jock. In fact, he's not really a jock at all, he just likes boxing. But it doesn't stop the conversation. They start sharing stories about Stans exploits around school, whether it be one of his infamous fights with the Cramplter gang or him being so atrociously stupid in class that the teacher walked out. It finally breaks off once someone rolls a Nat 20 and the campaign continues.

But it doesn't stop completely.

Every time Stanly comes down for something, either to tell Ford something, bring the group snacks that their Ma made for them (swiping one for himself), grabbing something for his Pa to sell, or really anything, the group always starts talking about Stanley. And it makes Ford blood boil. He'll defend him alright, and he'll make their campaign a fucking nightmare for everything they've said, but he's scared to really do something. This is the first friend group he's ever had and he doesn't wanna lose it, even though something in him tells him that he'd be better off without them talking shit about Stanley every time he comes down.

Then the faithful day happens when Stan comes down after a shower, no shirt on, hair wet, wearing a part of dolphin shorts as it's the middle of summer. He's down there grabbing a drink from Ford's DD&MD group snack tray. They took the last of the Pit Cola and he'd be damned if he didn't get one. So he does and leaves without really saying anything, unaware of the eyes staring at him all the way.

Ford braces himself for the onslaught of his brother but nothing. The group continues the game like nothing happened. And Ford is excited because maybe they've finally gotten it together, seen that Stan really isn't just those things, he is so much more. He's kind hearted and compassionate, he's artistic and business smart, he's hands on and crafty, he's strong and hunky and good looking and so so sexy and - Ford has to shake his head. Now is not the time to get a boner.

Ford's Ma calls him in the middle of the game for something and he has to leave them for a second. When he comes back and over hears the group talking about Stan but it's not about how stupid he looks - it's about how slutty he is. He stops on the stairs and listens in.

He hears them make incredibly inappropriate remarks about his brother, about what he must look like on his knees, wishing that they put the drinks on the ground so he would have to bend all the way over in those shorts to get it, that if it weren't for his body, he'd be a waste of air. They joke about having sex with them, calling him slurs, doing things to him that Ford knows first hand Stan does not like to do. They talk about his chub, how they mock him for being fat, but hey, at least he has nice tits. They go on and on about it, unaware of the simmering Ford up the stairs. After hearing enough, Ford finally comes down, making them all unaware that he had been listening in on them for 10 minutes.

That session becomes the hardest, most brutal session, where Ford successfully kills all of their characters off. The guys get pissed at Ford, saying he did that shit on purpose, and Ford answers back that they're lucky it was only their characters he killed off and not the real people behind them, especially after those comments. They get into a fight, the guys saying that Ford shouldn't be wasting his time defending a stupid whore like Stanley, he'd only leave and hold back Ford. Ford finally snaps when one the guys mentions how easy it would be to get with Stanley, no matter what.

Ford ends up fist fighting the guys, beating the shit out of each other, breaking and ruining their game, destroying their papers and character sheets and models. His Pa ends up coming down stairs after hearing the commotion and kicks the guys out, telling them they aren't welcome back until they can pay for the broken table. They scramble and Ford is given a talking to about picking better people to hangout with and to clean up the mess.

Ford goes down stairs to find Stan already down there, going over the mess, still in his shorts and no shirt. Ford, still high on adrenaline, runs smack dab into Stanley, pushing him up against the wall and making out with him. Stan has no idea what spurred him on though he does have an inkling. He pushes Ford back just enough to ask him about the fight, seeing how Ford does have bruises on his knuckles.

Ford tells him it wasn't important, that they weren't all that much fun anyway, he'd rather spend his time with Stanley anyway. Stanley doesn't protest too much, and they end up having sex in the basement before cleaning up the mess.

Later that night, Ford does properly take Stan to bed, making love to him and showering him in praise and acceptance. Stan lets him.

He knew going down their in those shorts would cause a stir, he just didn't know it would go so far into his favor.

#stancest #teen stancest #i LOVE THIS IDEA #ford being friends with assholes where stan is the hot stupid brother #theres so much more to this than just this scenerio #i could see it going as far as one of them making a move on stan and ford defending him because no #theyre assholes and they stink and theyre dd&md collection is trash anyway #all while trying to tell these guys to fuck off #hes fighting with himself to not show too much attraction toard his brother to give away their relationship #stans just happy to being getting the attention and princess treatment #but dont worry #he only has eyes on ford and he lets him know that periodically

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ticklishraspberries · 7 months ago

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Secrets & Sensitivity (Eddie/Steve)

Summary: Steve tries to keep being ticklish a secret, but Eddie is very persistent. (For Week 3 of @august-anon's weekly Tickletober prompts!! Thank you to everyone who voted for the ship for this day, and I hope you all enjoy reading!!)

Steve Harrington is good at keeping secrets.

Well, he’s legally obligated to keep a lot of shit secret, lest the government come after him. Living in Hawkins, Indiana apparently comes with some non-disclosure agreements, as he’s learned the hard way. Those secrets are kept more for survival rather than out of the goodness of his heart, but still, it counts. He’s kept secrets for friends, too. He didn’t tell anyone about Dustin’s initial crush on Max, or about Robin.

And he’s good at keeping his own secrets. Even when they’re small and silly, like the fact that he uses Farrah Fawcett hairspray, or the fact that he still doesn’t know how he passed algebra in high school. He doesn’t go blabbing for advice about all his little problems, even when he probably should. He knows that Robin will understand if he confides in her about the fact that he might possibly like boys as well as girls, but he isn’t ready to talk about it with anyone.

He was raised to keep everything inside, his feelings and secrets. He wasn’t allowed to complain or cry as a child, and he carried that mentality throughout his life.

So, he’s not good at opening up. Even when it’s about silly things.

“I’m not ticklish,” he insists, arms crossed defensively over his chest.

When Eddie tries to test it, Steve just turns the tables and makes him pinky swear to keep his hands to himself, otherwise he’ll never stop. Eddie gives up pretty quickly, and the subject is dropped.

They’re just friends when that happens, but now, they’re dating, and things are different. They touch more, and they’re more honest. Steve’s working on the whole openness thing, and has been slowly but surely revealing the little bits of himself, like embarrassing childhood stories and the nightmares that leave him gasping for air in the night.

It’s late one evening, and they’re curled up in Eddie’s bed, the trailer empty while Wayne’s on the night shift, and his fingers are lazily playing connect-the-dots with the freckles and moles on Steve’s back. Those gentle fingers get closer to his side, and Steve can’t help but squirm.

“I thought you said you weren't ticklish,” Eddie teases.

“I…” Steve hesitates. “I…might have lied?”

Eddie moves faster than lightning, and Steve doesn’t even have a chance to fight back before his sides are being squeezed, and he’s holding his breath, trying not to give his boyfriend the satisfaction of laughter, at least not yet.

In an attempt to preserve his dignity, Steve makes a split-second decision to retaliate, clumsily grasping for Eddie’s torso and landing a squeeze at his hip, making him shriek.

He’s known about Eddie’s ticklishness for a bit longer, has only tried to exploit it once or twice for fear of revenge, but now, his interest is piqued. He chases that sound, the strength coming back into his arms as he fends off tickling fingers, switching their positions so that Steve is on top of him.

Eddie’s not weak by any means, but he’s no match for Steve at this moment, and those big brown eyes only get wider as he realizes his predicament.

“Are you ticklish, Eddie?” Steve asks, grinning.

“You know the answer to that, dick,” Eddie replies, squirming wildly beneath him.

For his sass, Steve wastes no time and shows no mercy as he begins to explore Eddie’s ticklish spots, from underneath his chin to the waistband of his jeans, and the howling, hysterical laughter that pours out is so adorable, Steve never wants it to end.

However, Eddie’s going to need to breathe sometime, so he’s careful to not go too far, periodically slowing or stopping his touch to let him gasp for air, to let him mumble swear words between residual giggles, to let him try and fight back, even though he fails.

Quickly, Steve begins to realize that Eddie hasn’t once begged for him to stop, or made much of a genuine effort for escape. His cheeks are flushed, his chest is heaving, and his reactions are far from fake, and yet, he seems…To be having fun?

Steve can’t help the fond smile that comes over his face as he comes to the conclusion that Eddie likes this, that he’s having fun. It’s so fucking cute, it’s so Eddie that it just melts his heart.

He leans down to press a kiss to his jaw, and even though he doesn’t really mean for it to tickle, Eddie starts giggling anyway.

This is just one more secret that Steve Harrington will be happy to keep.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fluff #steddie ticklefic #steddie tickle fic #ticklefic #tickle fic #stranger things ticklefic #stranger things tickle fic #stranger things #raspberry writes

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starrycloak · 4 months ago

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ptsd flashbacks, hyperphantasia and true sight - Max's drawings in 4x05 were too good, actually

cw discussions of ptsd

I was thinking about how, the morning after she escaped Vecna's lair, Max took upon drawing what she saw there. Mostly HOW she drew those pictures:

Separate elements, fragmented individual snapshots (like an officer taking pictures at a crime scene- by the way, check out @threemanoperation's post about other instances of weird puzzle collage-solving-seemingly-without-a-reference here; it was a major inspo for this post). Sure, nobody was expecting her to render a single 360° view of Vecna's mindspace, but her drawings are more than clear enough. This level of detail (the broken, scattered structures, trinkets, Chrissy and Fred's bodies in their current state, mixing the crayon colors available in Holly's box so they'd more closely match what she saw, the different angles) is more than quite accurate for someone who 1) hadn't previously been labelled as skilled in drawing and 2) might have been scared for her life to mindfully focus on her surroundings. I have two main questions, both quite connected to one another, but I'm afraid I won't be able to answer them fully: how and why.

how could max remember so clearly what she saw in vecna's mindscape and externalize her memories with such high fidelity?

some assault/attemped m*rder survivors have very vivid memories of the moment they were attacked -those memories might not even be limited to image and sound, but even smells, textures, etc.

When traumatic memories are retrieved, the physical stress response actually serves to strengthen them, to reinforce the memory in the circuits of the brain. The PTSD response makes these memories stronger and stronger over time. [Survivors] may not remember all of the details, but the things that they do remember remain sharp and consistent.

There's no clear-cut time frame for how long it takes for our brains to initiate and run this process, so I'd not rule out something of the sort might have happened to Max from the moment she came back and the next morning at the Wheelers' (plus she didn't sleep at all and probably saw those images any time she closed her eyes). However, I can't help but consider what I said above about Max's main focus probably being elsewhere in that moment, along with the fact that Max's drawings were beyond beginner (as in, not hobby) level (did you see how many different vanishing points she used for the 'floating' objects???), and a very important detail she mentions herself: her walking into the red mindscape wasn't Vecna trying to scare her per se -he did NOT want her to see that, so he probably didn't want her to remember that place either. Yes, he had seemed kind of... "peacock-y" when it came to the classic "serial k*ller leaves crumbs bc he secretly wants to be found out", but he has to call the shots on who gets to see what, like he eventually did with Nancy. Max managed to "infiltrate" his mind bc he did the same to her first, so would it be far-fetched to think that, if it was only up to him, he'd make sure to block or take away those memories from her to patch what ultimately becomes an exploitable vulnerability for the Party and co?

unless someone else, in a similar position to Vecna -or even higher-, was on the Party's side-

I want to explore two possible explanations as to why max was able to retain such clear images/memories, stemming mainly from @greenfiend and @/kaypeace21's posts about DID theory. One: with Vecna being Will's persecutor alter, escaping his claws might have 'granted' Max an ability that has a similar-ish equivalent on an irl condition that can influence memory processing: hyperphantasia.

Hyperphantasia is the condition of having extremely vivid mental imagery. [It] has been described as being "as vivid as real seeing" [...] Vivid mental imagery as observed in hyperphantasia impacts people's ability for "mental time travel", or the ability to remember past events as well as imagine future events. Hyperphantasics have reported more sensory details of episodic memories and future event constructions.

sadly, it's more of a curse that a boon:

Vivid imagery has been correlated to several mood disorders, particularly anxiety, major depressive disorder, and bipolar disorder, and having hyperphantasia may exacerbate symptoms of such disorders by subserving ruminating thoughts as well as acting as an "emotional amplifier" [...] The vividness of mental imagery has a key role in the development and continuation of intrusive memories, so for those with PTSD, having hyperphantasia is a substantial risk factor.

if this sounds a bit familiar, it's because it's tied to the second possible explanation: Max, being an alter of Will, acquiring/borrowing the host's artistic abilities/motor skills (to a degree*) and a flash of his True Sight so she could help the party navigate that part of the hivemind as if they themselves had been there. or, similar to Billy, she was 'activated' (re: influenced/possessed) to help the party with this particular task.

*at first I thought this detail was too much of a reach, but then I remember how similar Max's and El's -another alter- drawings were in The Piggyback (although El's had bigger heads both times), and how stickmen were either a deliberate choice by Max or just her back to default:

#stranger things #max mayfield #will byers #el hopper #will byers has powers #or yk these might just be visual storytelling devices to speed up exposition scenes #i default to stickmen most of the time @ work bc im in a hurry. but i've also met others who have a very appealing way to draw ppl quickly #idk this fandom's smart someone might see something here that i dont #eleven stranger things #stranger things speculation #st synapse #stranger things theory #st vecna #or max is just hyperfantasic herself who knows

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 9 months ago

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Gotta admit to some confusion with the “Max is a sexist” takes? If it’s rooted in how he assumed Marinette didn’t know how to play the game, I could see a bit of merit even if there could be other reasons, especially since it happens in line with Kim’s more expressly sexist attitude of surprise. But when he loses, he congratulates her, and his upset while clear is framed as being completely due to losing his spot in the competition.

Ignoring how his anger was a part of his own private thoughts which HM exploits, Max as an Akuma targeting Marinette instead of Adrien always seemed to me to be due to the fact that she is the one who replaced him. Yes, they both beat him, but Adrien winning didn’t lead to Max losing his spot, Marinette winning did.

Also, the lesson of the day seems squarely centered around how Max deserves to play because he’s the one who really wanted the opportunity, which is why Alya as the writer’s mouthpiece scolds her beforehand about taking it seriously and cinched when Marinette explains why she’s surrendering her position. And while I’m not arguing the episode itself as whole doesn’t contain sexist elements, I feel the writers attempt to avoid that reading by having Adrien surrender his position to Marinette because she is the better player.

For Max, is there perhaps further context than Gamer that I’m just missing? Because I don’t nearly see the same amount of “Kim is a sexist” takes, and unfortunately Max being Black does put him at risk of being held to higher standards than other non-Black characters.

I will do my best to walk through the episode and explain why it makes Max read as sexist to a lot of people. (Or, at least, this is why I think people reach this conclusion. It's why I reach it.)

It's true that Max's reaction to Marinette wanting to play is potentially a little sexist because he assumes that she doesn't know how to play:

Max: The rules are elementary, You battle each other's robots with your own and... Marinette: Please... Every time you win, you loot its items and gain XP, which upgrades your mech. I'm not a noob, thank you very much. Max: Ah, sounds like you have a sufficient amount of knowledge. Let's see if it's enough to beat me.

It's hard to be sure, though, because we don't know if he tried to explain the rules to everyone. I still think it's fair to read it as sexist because it's paired with other characters acting like Marinette can't play, but I also don't think this is a big enough issue to call Max the clear problem of this episode. If he is being sexist, then he's far from the worst one in that scene and his initial reaction to loosing is excellent and without a hint of sexism!

Max: I accept this defeat. I relinquish my position at the tournament. Congratulations, Marinette. And Adrien.

It's also not even remotely sexist that he's upset by his loss and goes on to rant about it as soon as he's alone:

Max: I should've been going to that tournament. I was the chosen one! I worked so hard for it! This is Inconceivable!

While it's not sexist, I would argue that this reaction is something that he needs to work on. If Max wants to be in competitions, then he has to own the fact that he may lose them. This is an issue that we'll get to in a minute. First let's talk about what happens while Max is an akuma.

Even though Adrien and Marinette are together when Gamer attacks, Gamer is only out to get Marinette. He is obsessed with the idea that Marinette should have lost and doesn't care about the Adrien loss.

(Suddenly, the Gamer's robot appears. Marinette and Adrien notice it.) Marinette: Tell me this isn't some kind of publicity stunt for the tournament! Gamer: Well, well. Marinette, let's see who's victorious this time. Adrien: Doesn't look like a publicity stunt to me.

Gamer: Game over, Marinette! Marinette: How does he know my name? Max! (the Gamer's robot fires lasers at her) I guess he really did want that spot in the tournament!

While this makes sense since Marinette is technically the one who cost Max his spot, it doesn't change the fact that this obsession and the earlier framing of Marinette's win make the focus of the episode Max's reaction to Marinette winning. That means that the episode's ultimate lesson will be about the validity of Marinette's win.

This is where Max's part in the sexism really kicks in. Not in the pre-akuma stuff, but the post-akuma stuff. That's where this image comes from:

[Image description: Max and Marinette standing outside of the tournament arena. Max has a sad expression and is refusing to look at Marinette who is awkwardly standing behind him]

As you can see from this image, we don't see post-akuma Max apologizing to Marinette for blaming her when she didn't do anything wrong. Nor do we see post-akuma Max just generally owning his loss, promising to work on taking losses better in the future, and saying something like, "I'll just have to do better next year." Instead, we get post-akuma Max pouting and refusing to even look at Marinette.

This is hardly the behavior of a good loser and yet the story completely validates it. We go from Max pouting to this:

Alya: You bent over backwards to be in the team and now you wanna pull out? Marinette: It's just that I feel so bad for Max. And well, it just wouldn't be right. Alya:(stops her) You're doing the right thing. But honestly, it's not like you get the chance to play with Adrien everyday... Marinette: ...Max? I've thought about this a lot, and... Well, I think you should be playing tonight, Max. Max: What? Marinette: Don't get me wrong! I love gaming, but it's not my heart and soul. This is your baby. It's your tournament, Max. I don't wanna take that away from you.

The appropriate reaction to Marinette's offer is for Max to say, "No Marinette, I'm sorry, I'm behaving terribly. The school is supposed to be represented by the most skilled players. That's you and Adrien, not me. I lost fair and square. I'll work on my skills and get a spot next year." This is how you show character growth and emphasize that Max has moved on from viewing himself as the "chosen one" while unfairly blaming Marinette. Instead we get this:

Max: I don't know how to thank you.

While Max certainly isn't saying anything awful like, "damn right I should be playing you stupid girl," this ending still validates his anger towards Marinette and implies that his behavior was perfectly fine. That it wasn't wrong for him to ignore her until she gave him back "his" spot. That's the sexist element. We should not have seen Max rewarded for treating Marinette poorly and making her feel guilty for daring to win a videogame.

It's important to note that this all happens on the day of the tournament, meaning that it's been days since Max lost and yet he's still mad at Marinette. That's not a great look. At the very least, he should be equally angry at Marinette and Adrien by now. Instead, his anger is still shown to be focused on Marinette as if she is the one and only source of his problems when, in actuality, it was his double loss that cost him his spot. Marinette only knocked him out of the running because Adrien won first. If the order was reversed, then would it be valid for Max to be angry at Adrien? According to the show, I think that the answer is "no." At the very least, I don't see how you can argue that it's clearly "yes" based on what we were given. Adrien's win is treated neutrally by everyone and Adrien letting Marinette play is treated as him being kind while Marinette letting Max play is treated as her righting a wrong.

As others have pointed out, when it comes to Max getting akumatized, what difference does it make if Max loses to Marinette in the preliminaries or to someone else in the main tournament? Do you really think that he'd be fine losing at any point in this competition when he thinks that he's the "chosen one"? At what point is it not cool to hold onto the anger of losing in spite of all your hard work? And why does Marinette's motivation matter when it comes to Max's feelings? He had no idea that she was only playing because she wanted to be Adrien's teammate. All he knows is that she beat him fairly and that she now feels bad about that for some reason.

It's really important for kids to learn that hard work doesn't always lead to a win, but this episode doesn't teach that. Instead it says that it's totally fine for Max to feel wronged and that you should only compete in tournaments if you want to win for the "right" reasons, whatever those are. If you're going to go this route, then at least give Max a noble cause to contrast Marinette's selfish one. As is, he's just as selfish. It's not like he wanted the prize money to save his family from poverty! As far as we know, there is no prize money! He just wanted bragging rights.

What's even more bizarre is that Adrien gives us the lines that Max should have given:

Adrien: Go on, Marinette. You're a hundred times better than me. You belong on the team. Win the tournament for the school. I know you can do it.

What even is this mess? The episode didn't establish that Marinette was better than Adrien! We did get this exchange:

Adrien: Wow! We won again, thanks to you! Marinette: Yeah, um, yes we did. Adrien: We? That was practically all you. You're amazing, Marinette. I guess you wouldn't even need me. I'm so lame compared to you... Marinette: Um, no no no, I... No, you're so good. I mean, I'm the one who's not good. I mean... I'm lucky, that's all.

Leading to Marinette giving Adrien her lucky charm, but this isn't Adrien losing to Marinette. It's just Adrien being impressed by her skills when their team won a match. We never once see Marinette beat Adrien.

There's also the fact that the rest of the episode is focused on Ladybug and Chat Noir gaming together against Gamer, proving that they're the dream team, not Marinette and Max. The logical ending of this plot is for Marinette and Adrien to do the same thing on the civilian side because they're the dream team no matter which side of the masks they're on. Instead we validate Max's anger towards Marinette and tell the little girls at home that it's wrong to show off to boys. How feminist?

It would have played so much better if Max initially took Marinett's spot, but changed his mind after Adrien's line since Adrien's logic isn't unique to Marinette. It applies to Adrien as well and logical Max should have seen that. Why is it right for Adrien to give his spot to the better player while it's fine for Max to take a spot from those who beat him? Shouldn't the best players be the ones to represent the school? Especially when those players have actually been practicing together while Max hasn't done any co-op training? The lesson here makes no sense at all!

It's definitely true that Max isn't the only one who comes across poorly in this episode. Kim, Alya, and Rose's reactions to Marinette's initial win all also play into the "A girl? Playing video games? No way!" issue. Alya and Tikki play into the, "Marinette was in the wrong to ever play because we must be good and virtuous in our motivations and not do things to impress boys" issue. Both of these elements exacerbate how Max comes across by setting a sexist tone to the episode, but that doesn't change the fact that Max completely failed to learn a very valuable lesson, unintentionally making him look like a bit of a sexist loser even without the sexist leadin.

Max's sexism is also heavily exacerbated by some real world issues that are going to impact the way that people view this episode, so let's skim the surface of those rabbit holes because I think we have to acknowledge them to really understand why this episode bothers people.

I'm going to give you some studies here to back up what I'm saying because, when it comes to these sorts of claims, I want to give you something you can evaluate for yourself. I don't want to just talk about known issues as if they're hard facts without any proof and I prefer studies to opinion pieces or articles that mention studies without the details for you to evaluate. However, I will note that I'm limited in what studies I can access because many research papers are stupidly price locked and my public library's research database is pretty limited, so I'm stuck between that and what I can find for free online.

Feel free to reblog this or to send me an ask with suggestions of better studies or books on these topics or even on the topic of the way that black people and characters are held to higher standards because that's certainly a very real issue that's important to keep in mind! We all have unconsious biases from things like the media we watch and the only way to become aware of these biases/learn to look for them is for someone to point them out and for us to do some learning. Like I'm trained to look for sexism by my experiences, but picking up on subtle racism is much harder since I don't have a lifetime of experience to pull from. There are lots of great resources out there, the trick is finding them and maybe even accessing them as I certainly found when I was looking for studies. I'm far from an expert on gender or racial studies. My hobby research field is history.

Issue One: Female Socialization and Those Precious Male Feelings

It is a documented phenomenon that women are socialized to be nurturers. They're taught to prioritize the feelings of others - especially men - over their own wants, needs, and successes. One study on this topic focused on how success effects intimate relationships and noted that:

We find that climbing the societal ladder has positive associations with women’s well-being and relationship outcomes... however, these associations reversed for women who surpassed their partners in social status. ...Among women with higher status than their partner, traditional women intend to adjust their behavior to fit the gender norm (e.g., thinking about reducing work hours in favor of their time at home), whereas egalitarian women did not, but felt guilty toward their partner.

In other words, this study found that women have happier relationships when they don't do as well as their male partners. When they do surpass their male partners, they either try to compensate for that success or tend to feel guilty for failing to compensate.

While this study was about romantic relationships, I don't think that it's a stretch to apply it to platonic relationships, too, especially since we're talking about the messages a TV show is sending to young girls. That's where Gamer comes in. What does that episode have Marinette do when she surpasses her male friend Max? She feels guilty and compensates for daring to be better than him, reinforcing a pretty ugly gendered stereotype.

This type of thing goes beyond interpersonal relationships. It's a well-known issue that women are looked down on when they act too "masculine" in the workforce:

Numerous studies have highlighted that female leaders are evaluated less favorably than their male counterparts when engaging in identical behaviors. For example, using a job-hiring paradigm, past research demonstrated that female candidates who violated the modesty prescription by self-promoting during an interview were evaluated as less likeable and less hireable than self-promoting male candidates.

Gamer was not an instance of Marinette doing something questionable to get close to Adrien. It was her taking her hard-won skills and using them to show off to her crush so that they could get closer, a thing that Adrien was clearly 100% okay with.

This episode should not have been an instance of Marinette being show to be in the wrong. A show that aims to empower little girls should never include an episode where a girl is chastised for daring to self-promote, but that's exactly what Gamer does. It says that Marinette was wrong to put her wants over Max's feelings. What kind of girl power show sends this sort of message? How do you take a woman fairly beating a man and make it a bad thing?

If anything, the message of this episode should have been focused on Marinette being told to NOT feel guilty. After all, that's the far more likely issue for young girls to face. They will have lots of people reminding them to treat others kindly. The message could have also been about winning gracefully and been fine, imo.

Issue Two: Gender Discrimination in Male-Dominated Hobbies

It's a well documented fact that female gamers have long been treated as outsiders by the gaming community as this study discusses:

The researchers played against 1,660 unique gamers and broadcasted pre-recorded audio clips of either a man or a woman speaking... Findings indicate that, on average, the female voice received three times as many negative comments as the male voice or no voice.

Since most of that study is behind a paywall and I don't know if you can access it, I'll also give this openly available study that looked a subset of the recordings from the initial study as it gives you some fine details of what they saw. I think that this second study is a little weird in terms of what it's trying to argue, but the hard data and the research methodology seem fine and that's what I want to focus on here:

We show that lower-skilled players were more hostile towards a female-voiced teammate, especially when performing poorly. In contrast, lower-skilled players behaved submissively towards a male-voiced player in the identical scenario. This difference in gender-directed behavior became more extreme with poorer focal-player performance... Higher-skilled players, in contrast, were more positive towards a female relative to a male teammate.

There's also this study which was free through my public library, so hopefully you can find a way to access it, too, if you want to read the whole thing. For the purposes of this post, I'm just going to highlight some of the statistics and cases that it talks about during its introduction:

Recent studies have suggested that sexual harassments in online games are committed mostly by male gamers against female gamers. For example, in South Korea, one of the countries with the largest per capita gaming populations, players who play the female character Mercy in Overwatch are commonly called by an online slang, Bo-Rcy, which literally means ‘Mercy played by female genitals’ and connotes that women are incapable [of playing] the game. Also, a female professional gamer has been falsely accused of using an illegitimate tool simply because her win rate was too high for a woman.

33% of female gamers experienced gender discrimination, and 57% experienced severe sexual harassment after disclosing their genders. Furthermore, 64% of female World of Warcraft players answered that they experienced various in-game sexism such as exclusion (i.e. removing women from the game-play) or gendered flaming (i.e. using derogatory language specifically against female gamers) Also, a report documented that women are exposed to worse forms of online harassment (e.g. stalking, physical threats, etc.) and that about 44% of Internet users, regardless of their sex, agreed that online gaming is ‘more welcoming toward men’. Overall, it can be concluded that ‘video game culture is actively hostile towards women in the private as well as the professional spheres’

In other words, by having Max only ever blame Marinette for his loss, Gamer has Max acting like a tame version your typical woman-hating gamer who can't handle the fact that they've lost to a girl. This is something that I've seen myself and is part of the reason that I lost interest in online gaming. I even know one girl who had to change her in-game name because it openly acknowledged her gender and got her a ton of harassment. Of course, the guys that we played with blamed her for choosing such a harassment-inviting name because heaven forbid that a woman openly play videogames!

Conclusion

Sexism or no sexism, Gamer undeniably validates Max behaving poorly. The perception of that poor behavior is simply exacerbated by existing gender issues. These real-world problems are why people look so negatively on Max's actions. While his behavior is far from the worst gamer rage that I've ever seen, it does represent a classic, sexist issue in gaming.

If it weren't for all of the complexity around the real-world treatment of talented women in male-dominated spaces or the issue of women being taught to prioritize the feelings of others, then this episode would just be one of those episodes with a nonsense moral. For example, it would still be bad if Adrien was in Marinette's spot, it would just no longer be sexist.

However, we don't live in a world without those issues, so this episodes comes across as hella sexist and Max is the main victim because he's representing some major gendered issues that woman have to deal with. I can name so many real world moments that this episode reminded me of and none of them are happy memories. Every single one of them involves someone telling me to put a man's feelings over my own desire or comfort. This is not the kind of messaging I want to see in shows aimed at young girls.

All that being said, I don't think that Max was supposed to be read as sexist. The writers just did him dirty and made him look terrible when he could have been a wonderful lesson on taking a loss with grace and treating female gamers with respect. After all, as we've already acknowledged, Max did start out handling his loss reasonably well. The rest of the episode just completely undoes that initial good reaction, making it so that a lot of viewers will only remember Max being a pouting sore loser who gets rewarded with the thing that he wanted while Marinette feels guilty and gets lambasted by others for daring to want a spot on the team. I am not surprised that the credited writers for this one are a pair of dudes. I sincerely hope (and assume) that this was them being oblivious to a gendered issue and not anything more malicious.

#thecapturedafrique #gamer salt #ml writing salt #ml writing critical #Max deserves better #I spent literal hours looking through studies for this but I only brushed the surface of what's available #Feel free to suggest better ones!#This isn't a field of research I'm super into and I don't have access to larger research libraries #So this was just my best low-grade effort #As I didn't feel like doing days of research when I was already frustrated by so many paywalled sources that seemed perfect #ml's wacky morals

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